Born to Lose, Live to Win
by Vain x Life Poetess
Summary: AU Sequel to Angel of Wales. Years after Mary's death, her son finds the truth from an unlikely source and receives a visit from his true father who has an important message to give him about the future of his dynasty, but will he listen or will he fall prey to lust, ambitious relatives like his ancestors did a century earlier? Romance, lust and betrayal await him and his family.
1. Prologue

If there was one thing Lizzie hated was remembering the exact time when she heard Philip yell at her aunt and namesake, Lady Pembroke why he hated her. "I will make sure she suffers as I suffered when her mother fucked her father!"

People always told Lizzie that her father was Geoffrey Pole. She certainly took after him. Had his blond hair, his blue eyes, but they didn't have the same intensity. Geoffrey Pole was an indolent fool who would have sold his own mother to save himself.

Technically he did. When he had the opportunity to save his family and speak against the King, her grandfather, like his elder brother had done, he didn't. Instead like the sniveling, little coward that he was, he testified against several members of his own family, including his little nephew who was only eight when her guardian, the Duke of Somerset escorted him to the block.

She wondered if she would be executed if her uncle so wished. "Lady Somerset?" She asked her guardian's wife. "Will my uncle execute me too like he executed Mary's father?"

"Of course not bumpkin. You are a cute little girl. He would never dare to execute his niece."

"But I am a bastard."

"A royal bastard. Kings don't execute other kings. Your royal blood saves you." Anne said winking at her.

Lizzie wanted to ask the Duchess what she meant by that but the older woman turned her attention to her husband who slapped one of the courtiers who spoke against him for his campaign in Scotland where he slaughtered hundreds of Scotsmen, including prominent noblemen. It was well known that Edward Seymour was shy when it came to enforcing Henry VIII's treason laws against the common people, but foreigners? No problem there.

"They know no respect." Anne said to Edward that night. Lizzie dined with their children. She had grown very fond of their eldest sons because she was sure that they were Edward's, they had his eyes and his facial expressions and most of all they looking nothing like Anne.

Anne had the intention to marry one of them to her. Despite her past hatred to Edward, her children were her life, and even those that had been sired to Edward were hers and hers alone, and being the eldest she wanted what was best for them. And what could be best that a girl –who although being a bastard- had royal blood flowing through her veins?

Her brother said she shouldn't tolerate being put up in an auction bid like she was some kind of cow, but that is what women were for. She told Henry. As a girl, she had no other choice. And if Edward kept amassing more power, than it would suit her to marry one of his eldest sons.

Preferably Eddie. He was kind to her and was always anxious to hear what she had to say (about everything). You could hear a pin drop when she talked. And she'd talked endlessly about the stars, the moon, the other planets beyond their own, and finally about the past and future. Eddie was always in awe of her. He asked if she was some kind of witch and she said she didn't know. But if she were, she would use her powers for good.

The social disorganization was causing a lot of trouble for her uncle. He complained constantly about it to her. There wasn't any attraction between them, her guardian knew but it didn't make her feel any better. "Do you like my new puppet? I made it." He boasted. She nodded. It didn't look that good like the one Eddie had helped her make with Henry, but it was better than what Philip made with the help of his father and namesake, Duke Philip.

"It is for you so you don't have to be lonely at night. My uncle says that you still sleep on your own and when you don't you sleep with his wife. Is that true?" She nodded again. He smirked. "She will breed very soon you know, another one of her husband's sons. It is a miracle since half of them are his and the other half are not."

Once again, she nodded. Everything that her uncle said was in a matter-of-fact way. Nothing was childish, nothing was innocent. Edward VI stopped being a child the moment he was born, when his father abandoned him and left him at the mercy of his Protestant tutors.

She wondered why her grandfather never put a stop to it. People said that Henry VIII didn't know about his son being a Protestant but those people didn't know the King as well as she and her brothers. They had grown very close to him, and Henry VIII always came to visit them at Hudson. Henry was his favorite of course then it was her. She asked when she was four and had use of reason why he preferred her and Henry said while tucking her to sleep that because she reminded him of his grandmother, their great-great grandmother.

 _"_ _But wasn't she a witch?" She asked her big brother while he placed a kiss on her forehead. She couldn't explain it, but she and Henry were always close. Being around him was toxic, she felt like she would always be protected by him and he confessed when his father wasn't around that he wished they were full brothers because he never felt as if they had different fathers._

 _"_ _Yes but she made her husband and the King very happy and she was a good family woman just like you Lizzie."_

 _"_ _I am not good." She said lowering her head. She feared that their grandfather would die very soon. He had lived longer than he should. Last month he celebrated the fiftieth anniversary and he wasn't very pleased with the celebrations. People bragged about how good he looked for his age, but the truth was that he looked very haggard and his Queen, Kitty Howard didn't help matters by pressing him to visit all the family. Their grandfather was a sweet old man, who could have grown fat and tired but "sex" he boasted to the Duke "was the best medicine".  
Lizzie had no idea what "sex" was but she heard medicine was some sort of magical potion and therapy that helped the body heal. She wished she could find a way to help her grandfather live forever. She didn't want him to die. He had his bad temper, but at least he didn't speak ill of their mother when she and Henry were present. "If grandfather dies then Edward VI takes the throne and if he dies, Philip takes the throne and neither of them like me or you." She added the last part in a small voice._

 _Henry looked around to see if no one was listening, and figuring that the coast was clear, he lay next to her under the covers and wrapped his arms around her. She was hugging her doll she named Marie after their mother. Her pretty dress and red hair had been thanks to Henry who let her borrow from his allowance. "Nothing is going to happen to you. I promise." What about you? –She wanted to ask but then he closed his eyes and sleep soon overtook her as well_.

That had been two years ago, one year before she and Henry were confronted with the terrible truth about their parentage. She dumped her Marie doll and pulled all the ribbon and red tresses from her hair and Henry dumped her in the chimney. The two watched as the wretched doll burned. They swore that if they ever had a daughter they would never name her Mary or marry someone with relatives named like that.

She wasn't sure Henry would fulfill that promise. Not naming his daughter Mary? Probably. Marrying someone who was name that? Not likely. Her darling brother was smitten with the Seymour orphan whom the Duke had taken into his household (against the Protector and his wife's complaints when they filed for custody) and every day she heard from the Lady Somerset how she was growing to be just as mischievous as her father and of the mind of her mother, to let herself go for handsome rogues. Lizzie liked her. It was a shame that she wasn't placed with them, because the two would have more time to play together.

"The Marquis of Northampton, Sir Thomas Parr tells me that your half-brother is growing very fond of Jane Grey. She is four years older than him, you know? But if he wants her, then he can ask for her hand but I heard he is too shy."

Philip Jr. was always too shy. He had other ways of getting what he wanted.

"My ministers say that I should look to Cleves or even to some noble woman in Bavaria or your stepfather's family, the Wittelsbach clan to find him a bride. It will seal a good alliance with the Protestants. It will be like my father's old minister Cromwell always wanted."

"What about France?" She asked delicately. Her guardian didn't have trouble hearing her opinions but he always cautioned to thread carefully, reminding her that her uncle was his father's son. _"Don't get fooled by that serious face and charismatic smile. You know what happened the last time we had a King like that. Half his people ended up starving and then everyone praised him because they believed someone else was to blame."_ Lizzie knew that but she had to ask because the king wasn't just saying these things because he felt like saying them. He was testing her. For what? He didn't know, but she wasn't going to disappoint him.

"The Viscount Lisle says I should look elsewhere to France but France is a Catholic country and I would rather choke on sand than go back to all those useless alliances. Just look what it did to your grandmother, a girl from a backwater country with no education marrying a prince of the highest blood and higher learning and not surprisingly she was not only unable to keep up in the education field but in the bedroom as well." He said with a hearty laugh.

Lizzie wanted to tell him that her grandmother from what she heard from Lady Somerset who had served her, was ten times the woman any of her successors could have ever hoped to be, even Kitty Howard whom her aunt and namesake Bess revered as if she was the second coming.

"I can see that it hurts you. That's alright. I've always figured what people think, anger is a strong motivator to get them to say and act ridiculous, the fact that you can keep your composure tells me that you are not as dumb as Philip says, or you are but you are too frightened to say anything."

"Why did you call me here?"

Edward's sadistic smile faded. "Your beloved guardian loves you in ways he has never loved everyone. I see it. You imagine he is the father you never had. He would've disappointed you, believe me, just as he disappointed me. I am His Majesty and yet he treats me like a child, but you a simple bastard, he pours all his secrets and pushes his eldest son with Anne –a bigger whore than his first wife- in your way so the two of you can fall in love and marry. Very touching …but …" he paused. His smile returned. "… very stupid."

Lizzie bit her lip, she was trying very hard to resist the urge to punch him in the face like she tried every time she saw Philip bullying Henry after the Duke of Bavaria broke the news to them, or even Henry as she noticed how he was becoming more and more like the Duke and less like the big brother who coddled her and she used to love.

"Just what do you think you will do … bastard" He said, emphasizing on the word 'bastard' "when he dies and there is no one around to protect you both? Edward Seymour Jr. isn't like his father and rumor has it that his eldest sons by his first wife Catherine are his true heirs."

"That is not true. Parliament proved they weren't."

"Under the influence of their father who was the top man during the height of my father's reign but he is not King anymore. I am and once I reach the age of majority I can make it so Edward Seymour's head is chopped off and you and his son get nothing on your wedding day. You better than anyone know how quickly things can change for those on the top." He said referring to my mother.

"And that is supposed to scare me? You said it yourself Your Majesty, I am a bastard so nothing you say or do should scare me because I am used to being nothing and if I marry a nobody then so be it. A nobody I have been and a nobody I will be and nothing you say can make me feel uncomfortable."

"Perhaps not but what if I were to tell everyone about your powers?"

She furrowed my brow. "What powers?" What the hell was he talking about now?

"Don't like to me little niece. I see it in your eyes, the same witch eyes that our ancestress Bess Woodville has in her infamous portrait. You've inherited her powers and the way you've enchanted little Eddie is no secret. You've bewitched him."

Ok, now she was mad. It was one thing to call her a bastard, to remind her of how insignificant she was, how her mother had cheated on her husband with some random guy who she only knew the truth who he was, but it was a completely different matter to accuse me of witchcraft.

And as if that wasn't enough, what he said next infuriated her even more.

"When you were practicing dance lessons with my aunts, I heard what she said in your ear when I was pretending not to hear and pay attention to one of Bess' jests. 'Be proud of what you are child, the world will never forget, so don't show them shame. Show them valor.' You were so delightful, like a little imp dancing and twirling and then when you tripped and cried for your fake mommy Somerset to come, no one paid attention to the blood dripping from your knee except me. I saw how you closed your eyes while you covered it with your hand and then there was no blood anymore."

"Of course there wasn't! Because I covered it and wiped it with my hand!" She shouted.

"Last year after you were moved to the Somersets, I visited my uncle's house during the winter and stayed there for an entire month and saw how objects moved, how you wished for something. 'The maids treat me bad, I wish they'd gone' and they became sick or too lazy and they were dismissed. Admit it Lizzie, you a witch."

"No!" She couldn't believe what he was saying. Could she? Yeah … She had done those things but they weren't intentional. It was just coincidence that Allison Abrams got sick and the kitchen master who taunted her for being a bastard Luke Hans' suddenly forgot how to cook or do anything except speak. Things like these happened all the time. People wished bad things on others and sometimes they happened, it didn't mean they had special powers.

But here was Edward VI, dead convinced that she was a witch. It was up to her to convince him otherwise. _Otherwise it's my flesh being roasted at the stake._

"You fear me don't you?"

"That happens when you are being interrogated with a little prick who thinks he is above the law."

"I am above the law bastard, because I am the law. No one answers to anybody except to me. I am God's representative on Earth." Lizzie laughed. "You don't believe me. Fine. I can make things easy for you if you follow my orders. Anne and you won't have to worry about money and you can marry your Eddie. All you have to do is be my little spy in my uncle's household."

"No."

"It's unavoidable you know. They are going to topple him very soon and I will claim to be the victim as I always do and they will cut off his head, imprison your fake mommy and you will go back to being the Duke's unwanted brat my stupid sister begat from some random bloke. What do you say?"

He offered her hand. She was tempted to take it _. Me being married to Edward. Mrs. Edward Seymour. Baroness, Countess, Duchess!_ It was such a beautiful thought. _I can have whatever I want._ And he would never have to know. It would just be the two of them. But then she thought about their faces when they did find out. Because these things had a knack of revealing themselves in the most inopportune ways. And what would they think of her?

People could call her many things, she could handle it, but traitor was something she could never live with. So she shook her head again.

Edward VI got up from his throne, and told her to get up. He was disappointed. He dismissed her and she went back to Lady Somerset and told her everything he told her.

Anne just smiled at her then looked to her husband who smirked. "Aren't you scared?"

"My sweet girl, if we were scared about every little threat that little boy makes we would be powerless by now. The boy craves power, he is a boy-King, let him have his little temper tantrums if it makes him feel good. He can't do anything against us."

"What about Dudley?"

"Dudley is a fool whose followers are more fools who think he is some poor, misunderstood fool. And Gardiner is a worse fool for thinking that Dudley will make things better. He is just an imp from the Pope."

"Dudley?"

They both tilted their heads at her as if she was seriously asking that question and when they realized she was, they barked in laughter. Well Anne did, the Lord Protector as always was more reserved.

"No child, Dudley can claim all he wants but he will never obtain the crown. Not now and not ever. Henry VIII appointed me head of the Regency council." A lie, but one Lizzie chose to swallow. "He has ambitions, everyone has ambitions, but my place will always be by the King's side. Gardiner on the other hand is a sniveling fool who courts whoever he thinks will benefit him. He is the imp of the pope and our mortal enemy."

Lizzie nodded. She wondered if the rumors were true that besides the courtier he slapped last week, he had punched the Bishop of Winchester hard in the face when he had been just Earl of Hertford.

Edward crooked his finger at her and beckoned her to come. She sat next to him, in between him and Anne.

When her mother had been alive, Edward plotted all sorts of plots against her. He couldn't stand the poor pity-me face of that royal bastard every time she walked in the room, treating everyone as if they were beneath her. Edward knew who Henry Tudor-Wittelsbach (whose last name as his eldest brother Philip Jr. had been added before the Duke so the Tudor name could be on in case something happened to his royal nephew) father was. He never revealed it though. If something happened to his nephew, then Philip would become King and as hand of the former King, he would pick him to be his next minister and if that failed then Edward would depose him in favor of his younger brother who was far more popular with the nobles and commons and who was his aunt's favorite who was also another commons' favorite.  
He reeled when she heard her screams of pain as she begged him to remember her daughter's name.  
 _"Her name is Elizabeth!"_  
Edward didn't need to be reminded. Of course the royal bastard would name her after the sister whom she loved and looked after, after her mother was beheaded. _And now she would be. Ironic_ –he thought at the time. Alas! God was merciful to her. He took her before the axe sliced through her pretty little head.

Edward mentally smiled. He always had a weakness for red-heads but unlike his brother and father who fucked everything that moved and made no secret of it; he did. When he found that his wife had survived giving birth to one of his brother's bastards, he was disappointed. This was around the same time that the Duke had been brought to St. Omar after he had been wounded in battle. He hoped that both would die and he would be free to marry the Princess Mary. To him, she would always be royalty. He didn't care that she was fucking Eustace Chapuys, as long as he had her, nothing else mattered.  
But fate once against intervened. His wife survived and so did her husband and when he found out from that half-French girl at her service that she was still fucking the Ambassador, he grew angry. And he turned that anger into vengeance when he questioned that girl again, and told her to be frightened, to act like her life was at stake. It didn't take too much acting, Edward had a way of scaring people. They said that his cold blue eyes were his toughest feature. Cold, son of a bitch they called him. He didn't care. The girl said what she had to say, and knowing the Duke of Bavaria was hearing, he asked her again and this time she responded louder about how the Duchess was secretly seeing someone behind her husband's back.  
It didn't take long for the idiotic Duke to put two and two together. The imbecile girl didn't know whom her mistress was sleeping with but the Duke did, and the revelation that she had betrayed him (again) was enough to set him on fire. The rest as they say is history. They both got what they wanted and he got to see three lives destroyed, including Lizzie's real father who no doubt was left scarred by the fact that his offspring were being raised by his rival, and the woman he loved died giving birth to Lizzie.

If Eustace Chapuys is worried about something happening to them, he shouldn't be. Henry wasn't treated like a king after the Duke for no reason told him and his sister the truth. He wondered when he'd found out but that was of no consequence. Henry was still his best tool and showing him love, was the best way of making the boy more loyal to him. And as for Lizzie, Edward and Anne had made a home for her after the Duke expressed he no longer wanted to take care of her. At first Edward thought he would hate her but his heart soon softened when he saw the girl. Anne's daughters, including theirs, were all past the age of nine and ten at the time, they hardly spent any time together so when Lizzie came along she immediately took the girl as her apprentice and bought her all kinds of clothes, including headdresses and necklaces to make her look more like a little princess and less like the bastard everyone mocked her for.

"What about what my uncle said?"

"What about that?"

"He said that Dudley and the Marquis of Northampton and many others are conspiring against you and they will take you down at the first chance they get and all he has to do is act as a victim and get everyone to do what he wants."

"He can try. My nephew is not that clever as he thinks he is." Edward said. "Don't worry Lizzie, we will keep you safe, I promise nothing bad will happen to you."

* * *

Those were the last words she heard coming from the Duke of Somerset and the Lord Protector's mouth before they came to arrest him the following day. He sent his twelve year old son to his youngest brother Sir Henry to persuade him to send troops but when he got there, he found his uncle had already made a deal with the rebellious lords and took him as the rest of his family prisoner.

Lizzie returned to the Duke's care. Back to the shoutings, back to the abuses and back to the misery. Her only refuge was Henry, who still managed to see her from time to time when the Duke wasn't around. He had changed. He was not the cheery big brother who had comforted her in her sleep when she was five. He was still playful, but he was also cold and distant and he only had eyes for his sweetheart, Mary Seymour.

During this time, she developed an affinity for sewing. Kitty Howard who visited them often to give tons of gifts to Henry and Mary, was a master at sewing, so was her aunt Elizabeth. So Lizzie asked them to teach her. They did, Kitty reluctantly at first until she was convinced by Bess. This helped her mend her clothes, modify them and also keep the ones that had been sent by Lady Somerset who was currently a resident of the Tower of London. **_"Dear Lizzie_** " she wrote **_"know that you are not forgotten. This is just a setback. They may have taken my husband's head and they will –make no mistake- take my half brother, Michael's head as well but they will not take mine or any other member of my family. The Duke of Northumberland as he likes to call himself now, though, if I am to be completely honest, your uncle elevating him doesn't make the man any nobler. He will always be grease to me but anyway … He will never manage to take my pride and in the end that is all that matters. Pride. Never forget what you are. Edward never told you the truth about your father but you know that already and although that might make you think 'I am not royal enough' don't let it bring you down. Your mother descended from two royals, she had the blood of Welsh Princes, Spanish Kings, English Kings, French kings. That legacy is yours now. Don't waste it. Always fight, always hold your head up high and never let anyone tell you, you are less than them. Do you hear me? You are not less than anyone. Your dearest friend, Anne."_**

A teardrop fell on the piece of paper.

Anne was right. She wasn't going to let anyone bring her down. She was the daughter of Mary Tudor. A whore. A bastard. But Royal nonetheless. And her blood ran through her veins.


	2. It's Getting Too Much For Us

**Chapter 1: It's Getting Too Much For Us**

 _ **"I'm living on an endless road  
Around the world for rock and roll  
Sometimes it feels so tough  
But I still ain't had enough  
I keep saying that it is getting too much  
But I know I am a liar**_

 _ **Feeling all right in the noise and the light  
But that's what lights my fire**_

 _ **Hellraiser! In the thunder and heat!  
Hellraiser! Rock you back in your seat  
Hellraiser! And I'll make it come true  
Hellraiser! I'll put a spell on you**_

 _ **Walking out on another stage  
another town, another place  
Sometimes I don't feel right  
Nerves wound up to damn tight  
Don't you tell me that it's bad for my health  
Cause kicking back don't make it  
Out of control, I play the ultimate role  
Don't know how to fake it**_

 _ **Hellraiser! In the thunder and heat!  
Hellraiser! Rock you back in your seat  
Hellraiser! And I'll make it come true  
Hellraiser! I'll put a spell on you**_ _ **  
**_

 _ **I'm living on an endless road  
Around the world for rock and roll  
Sometimes it feels so tough  
But I still ain't had enough  
I keep saying that it is getting too much  
But I know I am a liar  
**_

 _ **Feeling all right in the noise and the light  
But that's what lights my fire**_

 _ **Hellraiser! In the thunder and heat!  
Hellraiser! Rock you back in your seat  
Hellraiser! And I'll make it come true  
Hellraiser! I'll put a spell on you."**_

 _ **~Hellraiser by Motorhead (Rock on in the afterlife Lemmy \m/)**_

 **1568-1569**

 **Carey Household -Hampton Court Palace**

She gasped and called on the goddess that had aided them during their most trying times but she never came. She didn't feel the power she had felt cursing through her veins when Edward VI came to their house and mocked her and Henry one last time before he fell dangerously ill and died. She only felt despair.

"Get off me." Realizing he had been yelling her name, he pulled up his hose and withdrew. After eleven years of marriage, she was no longer afraid to tell him when he was going too far. Not that it mattered anyway, but it gave her a false sense of hope.

She sat up. Her limbs ached. She was sure glad that was over. She felt disgusted with herself –and even more with Henry. Why did he marry her to this brute? She asked to be married to Edward Seymour. He had restored his father's lesser title of Viscount of Beauchamp to him. She would have been a happy Viscountess. But no, Henry wanted her to suffer.

Why? She almost asked him but her brain soon reminded her. It's because you are an illegitimate brat, bastard daughter of bastards.

He tossed her, her dress. And told her to get up. She refused to get dressed.

He had just raped her, now he wanted her to move? Was he nuts?

"Your brother, the King is expecting us. And he wants you to be there when his wife finally gives birth to a son. It's been eight years now since Mary Seymour's death and one year since she gave birth to those two brats."

"Those two brats are the Prince and Princess. And the Queen already proved herself by giving birth to them."

"So?" He challenged, adjusting his chain of office. "That doesn't mean that the Portuguese bitch is going to use her powers of influence to turn their brat into a sweet Catholic puppet like his grandmother would've been if she lived."

If she lived. Lizzie often wondered what kind of Queen her mother would had been if she had never met her father? Would she have been a just Queen or a bad one like Philip?

"He will have tutors like Roger Ascham."

"Hah! Roger Ascham was the tutor, the others won't measure up to him and that bitch knows it. That is why she is going to use her sphere of Portuguese influence, dance a little dance," he made a wave of his hand "or use another trick to enchant the king and convince him to take over his education."

"My brother won't allow it."

"Keep telling yourself that darling. Your brother is a good man, but women have always been his weakness. First your mommy, then Mary Seymour and now this woman." He shook his head in complete dismay. "A good fun in the hay is good once in a while, but he lets it get to his head just like his great-great-grandfather Edward IV. He gave it all up for a woman and if he continues like this, that is what he will do."

 _You should know_. The Earl of Hudson was not known for his fidelity. She was his second wife. His first one had died in childbirth, and to win more Protestant adepts, Henry had sold her to her. The first two years were hell. He rode her day and night until she became pregnant and gave birth to his brats. After that, he rarely visited her. Last night he had come drunk and angry because none of his favorite whores were available and all the maids were asleep and he couldn't go outside to wake them, lest he wanted his balls to freeze.

"What about me? Why do I have to be the one assisting my sister-in-law?"

"Because you have experience giving birth, and because you were a good friend of her predecessor. She will trust you just as Mary trusted you."

That was true. She and Mary remained good friends after her marriage to Henry Carey. Mary would visit her often and while she was there, Henry would show good conduct towards her and her children. She also had the "gift" and could see things before they happened which was a rare thing in any witch. And she had seen her own death, months before the King announced she was pregnant. Lizzie tried to help her. She prayed, meditated, cast spells, but nothing worked. She resigned herself to her friend's fate and instead came to her side, so she wouldn't die alone.  
Henry of course was there but he wasn't his old self anymore. She could see a trace of guilt in his eyes when his wife said her last words to him and made him swear he would be happy and move on with his life for their daughter's sake.  
Lizzie was the only one who knew that behind the King's grieving state, was a deeper guilt and it had to do with his abrupt decision to cut his mourning short to marry the newly widowed Duchess of Braganza.

Everyone wasn't surprised by the King's decision. He was young still, and he had to secure the Tudor Dynasty by any means and what better than by marrying a foreign royal who also had a claim to the Portuguese crown who some believe was better than the Spanish King, Philip II. But those who knew him best, knew that that wasn't the only reason why he was marrying her.

The Duchess' husband had died two months before. It had been a marriage of convenience. Her brother Duarte died before he could sire another son and her sisters soon followed, leaving her as the sole inheritrix of his title, but when she married Joao, the Dukedom passed to him. It was something that many people said rankled her but she had no other choice but to accept it. Despite her resentment, her husband genuinely grew fond of her and in his will left everything to her, including the title which he wrote had always been legally hers. _If he only only knew._ Lizzie thought. _What his wife was doing behind his back, fornicating with my brother._  
Henry had gone on a diplomatic mission to meet with the Spanish King, their cousin Philip when the Princess of Eboli showed up unexpectedly, acting as his ambassador, telling him that he was busy and was deeply sorry he couldn't attend. Lizzie and the rest of his company were bracing themselves for their king's temper when he abruptly closed his mouth as he locked eyes with the Duchess of Braganza. He was like a little kid who had just witnessed the most beautiful sight. He danced and talked to her during the banquet and afterwards took her to his chambers.

Their relationship was kept a secret by everyone, including his most trusted advisers. But when he cut his mourning short to announce his intentions to marry the Duchess, everything was revealed.

And even less surprising was that eight months later their twins arrived. A healthy baby boy and baby girl they who were named William after the Conqueror and Virginia after the Virgin Mary. Lizzie wished she had been during the queen's first birthing so she could give her advice on what to call her children and what NOT to call them. Henry Carey was a brute but he was correct when it came to matters of religion. The commons loved Mary Seymour because of who her mother had been. Kathryn had been a very outspoken person for their religion and written two books which extolled Henry and Edward's reign. Mary had inherited her mother's love of rhetoric and she basked in public attention which she used to boost her husband's popularity. Lizzie had come to know Mary very well. Though she basked in the public's love, she wasn't an exact copy of her mother. She and Lizzie would speak endlessly about married life, and she would ask her for advice about Henry. There were many things that Henry IX didn't like to disclose to the public, even to his loved ones. Mary was growing very resentful of that but one day she came back from an argument with him with a smile. Lizzie asked her why and Mary told her that she finally understood why Henry was the man he was. She didn't ask what that meant. _Probably another one of Mary's strange sentences._ Her friend was becoming stranger the last years of her life. Saying strange things, having all kinds of visions, even claiming that she saw her mother in her sleep.  
 _"They are just dreams Mary. A dream means nothing."_ But that wasn't true. Lizzie had had many dreams which were visions of her mother's past, but she didn't get obsessed over them. That was the difference between her and Mary. Mary had always been an idealist. Pragmatic in some areas, but ultimately an idealist when it came to love.  
Lizzie had never known love so there was no reason for her to lose her mind over her family. All the family she had ever known was her brother and he had become a monster like their stepfather as soon as he told them the truth about their parentage.

"That she trusted me is not going to mean the same with Henry's new wife. The Queen is a very religious woman, she will see me as a witch. People say things about me."

"That is up to you to change. Once the Queen gets to know you, we can put those absurd rumors to rest and not only that, you as the Queen's best friend and counsel her against spreading her religion in her children's school room or worse, to their relatives."

"Catherine of Guimaraes is many thing but she is not stupid. She will never do that."

"Is that what you believe Elizabeth? She reprimanded my cousin Bess' son Rob because he didn't say Amen when he interrupted her prayer session. Prayer session! Can you believe it? The King is crazy for letting her do whatever she wants. The people won't stand for it and much less when she and her stepdaughter our royal Princess Victoria continue to avoid each other as if the other was the plague."

"I don't know. The people in Yorkshire and Dover love her ever since she established those schools."

"Don't fool yourself wife. That is because her husband and l. She is Queen Consort, nothing more. And if it weren't for that claim she has on the Portuguese throne, your brother would've never married her."

That was partly true, but it wasn't why he married her in the first place. But she wasn't about to rebuke him.

"So I become her friend, then what? I tell her not to name the other girl Virginia or Catherine after her or better yet, after the saint she was named after."

He nodded, glad that I was following his lead.

"The Queen might be a staunch Catholic, or a pragmatist as she would love anyone to believe, but Cecil, your aunt Bess and I know best. Guide her, show her what is best for her and if you can, do that."

She wasn't entirely sure how she was going to do that. But sure enough, the Queen was very welcoming to her. She didn't seem to swallow the rumors that revolved around her, and welcomed her into her circle of friends. Most of whom were Portuguese.

There was one of them who spoke as many languages as her. The Queen said her name was Angelica and had been her companion growing up under the tutelage of her mother, Isabella of Braganza. The girl was nice enough but Lizzie was not sure her kindness was genuine. She could always tell someone's true intentions by looking into their eyes and her eyes were dark and full of secrets.

* * *

When the time came for the Queen to give birth, Lizzie was there with her, telling her to push, although the Queen did not need any incentive. Like their distant relative, the late Holy Roman Empress, Isabella of Portugal, she swore "by God, I shall not scream. I will bring this baby to term and welcome the suffering but I will not scream." And she didn't.

Lizzie was impressed. For a woman who had put up with so many scorn from the Protestant and Catholic lords alike, and suffered through so many tragedies in her life, she did not give in to her emotions.

When the cries of her newborn babies woke her up (twins once more), she smiled at them. She looked up at Angelica and told her "Go and inform His Majesty."

"My beautiful girls." Lizzie could not tell if she was disappointed or not, but the tone of her voice hinted that if she was, it had melted away when she looked at the two mewing babies.

They were so different. Lizzie had never seen anything like it. Although she had heard of it. When the first set of royal twins were born, they were so identical. Blue-green eyes, angular cheekbones, and blond hair they inherited from both their parents. But these were as different from each other as they were from their older siblings.

The oldest one, whom the Queen had already decided to call Theresa –and which the little girl started to respond immediately as if she knew that name had been assigned to her- was dark brown haired, with sapphire eyes and pale skin that made her look almost unhealthy. Her twin in contrast, was dark auburn haired, with dark grey eyes and heart-shaped face which were common features that had not been seen in a Tudor since her mother.

Come to think of it, the girl looked a lot like her mother, the infamous Lady Mary Tudor. Upon closer inspection, she saw the girl looking directly at her then up at her mother, raising her arms, begging her for attention.

 _Yes, definitely a Tudor._ Lizzie thought. Pushing away thoughts of her mother _. It's just a mirage._ This girl could not be anything like her mother. _And if she is, Henry will make sure she doesn't repeat her mistakes._

As if on cue, Henry came, accompanied by her husband, Cecil, their aunt Bess, and dozen other courtiers, including his eldest daughter Princess Victoria of Kent who was excited to see her newest siblings but not so excited to see her stepmother.

* * *

Henry couldn't believe it when he heard it. He was disappointed at first that it was not another boy but when he saw his daughters, his disappointment faded. "What are you going to call them?" His daughter asked them when they were alone.

"That's for your lady mother to decide. She let me decide last time the name of your brother, now it's her turn to pick another name for your sisters."

Victoria smiled, but inside she was seething. How dare her father call this woman her lady mother? Who was she to usurp her mother's rightful place? She had been the beloved queen of the commons. Her grandmother had written two books. No other women could compare to them. Victoria had been so happy when her father brought another woman to the kingdom. She expected her to be beautiful and kind like her late lady mother but she became angry when she saw her.

She was not stupid. Her father thought that she didn't caught on things quickly but she did. She had heard the rumors of how one Catholic sorceress had ensnared him while her mother was still alive, dying after she failed to give him the son he desperately desired, while in Portugal. People wouldn't whisper her name but her good friend, Lettice did. _"Her name is Catherine or Catarina as the wicked lot there call her. They say she prayed daily to her altar so she could get rid of her husband. That is how she found your father. The two couldn't wait for him to die so they could be with each other."_ Though she didn't want to believe her best friend's words, she knew deep in her heart that what Lettice was saying was true.

It didn't take a genius to know that the Catholic whore was also pregnant. She had seen the signs with her mother and the women she had assisted when they were pregnant. (Her mother always taught her that no matter how privileged she was, she was not above anyone else and as a Princess she had to set an example of humility and leave her fears for blood, and everything else aside.)

To make matters worse, they didn't even try to disguise it when her father announced the day after their wedding that she was pregnant. He claimed it was a miracle from God, but everyone with a brain knew the truth but nobody was brave enough to speak it. Except her. She told her father that it was not fair. She would have preferred any other woman but her. It was a betrayal of her mother's memory. Her father, calm as always when it came to her, tried to explain her that it just happened _. "I loved your mother Vicky. God knows I loved her more than life itself but this just happened. I can't explain it. When you are older you will understand. We don't choose whom we fall in love with and sometimes we can love more than one person. Your mother will always be special to me because she gave me you and I loved her. But Catarina is also special and I would never trade what we have for anything else in the world. If she were a pauper's daughter, I would still have married her."_ She doubted that he would. Her father was all about self-interest. She believed him when he told her he loved her mother, but she didn't believe him on his last claims that he fell in love with his current wife.  
How could he have, when all he ever cared was finding a way to best his cousin the King of Spain?  
She hid her disgust once more behind a mask of kindness when the whore spoke.

"I was thinking something simple like Patricia or Elizabeth like your aunt and sister here."

His sister blushed while his aunt gave a hearty laugh.

"What do you say ladies? Is there room for another Bessie?"

"I don't know Your Majesty, there might be too many Elizabeths." Lizzie said and their aunt nodded.

"Lizzie is right, I already have two daughters named after me. One Anne Elizabeth and another Elizabeth Mary. I have to call the first Annie and the second Beth so people don't get confused when they try to figure out who they are talking to." Bess said with another chuckle.

"Tell me about it. Going to your house dearest aunt is like going through a maze. Ow!" Bess gave her royal nephew a playful nudge on his shoulder. Everyone laughed.

"So no Elizabeth then. How about after Margaret?"

"I like that name very much but while you three were arguing over the Elizabeth name, I had a bright idea that I can't believe I forgot about earlier." His wife said.

"And what idea is that?" He asked intrigued, flashing her a smile as their eyes made contact.

His wife lowered her eyes, as she did whenever he asked her to be assertive. She had learned many things from her mother, the number one thing being how as a wife, she had to keep up the pretense of docility while working her influence on her husband.

"Well, since I figured that we can have no saints, Elizabeths or anything else that could rattle the population I suppose Theresa will do." She rose her eyes to meet his again. "After the first Queen of Portugal." She explained.

"Theresa, I like it. Our little Princess Theresa." He said picking the girl up from her cradle. Catherine didn't bother to tell him to be careful. He loved children. And he loved this little mite whose eyes showed such intensity that it reminded him of himself growing up. Such a long time ago. The Duke had been very strict but if it wasn't for him he wouldn't be the man he was today.

He placed her back on the cradle next to her sleeping twin. She was calmer and docile, so unlike any of her siblings, even Victoria when she had been this small. She almost looked out of place. Dark auburn haired, dark grey eyes from what he had been told before she fell asleep in her mother's arms, and heart shaped face. All traits that had not been seen in another Tudor for years.

She didn't almost look his mother, she looked like his mother _._ It was really frightening. He knew the possibility of seeing his mother's face in one of his children, but he didn't think it would be this soon, or the resemblance be this strong.

 _It must be another one of fate's cruel jokes._ The powers that be always had a way of getting back at him. He didn't pick her up. Instead he traced his finger across her cheek. There wasn't any response except light wiggling which stopped once Theresa got closer to her.

"What should we call her?"

Catherine could tell there was apprehension in his voice. She didn't think that he would mind. One girl looking like his mother. Who cared, but his mother was a still a delicate subject with her husband. Sometimes she wished that he could tell her everything. She knew that the woman had done something terrible behind. It was practically legendary, but there was more and Henry didn't want to tell her. She almost felt sorry for her daughter. _Maybe Henry will see past his daughter's looks in time._ She was the woman's granddaughter after all, not her clone. Catherine knew it in her soul that great things awaited her.

She thought long and hard and then the name came to her. "Leonor. Eleanor. After the two most beautiful Queens England has had."

"Until you." He said, going to her and kissing her, then looked back at their youngest daughter. "Eleanor, I like that. Welcome to the world, little Eleanor." _And may you have a better fate than your grandmother who destroyed her life and the life of her children._

* * *

 ** _4 Years Later_**

 **Nonsuch Palace:**

Eleanor was saddened that they weren't going to have a little brother. Theresa made a bet that the baby boy would be named after an English saint while Nor believed he would be named after another Norman King like William. _But it was not to be._ On one hand she felt relieved because now the odds were not against her which meant she didn't have to pay Theresa and submit to more of her taunting. But on the other, she was sad because that meant her mother would be sad as well and they both knew how much she and her father wanted to have another baby.

 _It was not to be._ She reminded herself and hid under the bed, hoping that Theresa would not look for her here. Needless to say, fate once again ruled against her because Theresa found her and made fun of her for being so clueless.

"Told you that dwarfs can't hide."

"You idiot Theresa, dwarfs are imaginary." Nor shouted, pushing her away when she tried to tickle her again.

"No, they aren't. They are real. I saw one last time."

"That was your imagination stupid and if you keep talking like that, dad is going to lock you up like King Philip's grandmother."

"No he won't. I am his favorite. Remember that."

"That doesn't mean anything. We are all his favorites. Daddy doesn't give anyone special treatment."

'That's what he wants you to believe because you look so much like his mommy, but I am his favorite because I am everything he wants in a daughter."

"You are not."

"Yes I am. I am dutiful, obedient, and I am eager to learn unlike little miss perfect Victoria."

"That's a load of bull! You are never eager to learn and you are always running away from your lessons and get away with doing what you want."

"Exactly, which is the attitude that is expected of any politician and a future Queen."

Her sister was unbelievable. "You forgot something."

"What?"

"Beautiful. If you are not beautiful, how can you be a good queen? People expect their queens to be beautiful like the Virgin Mary or as their female ancestors. Our ancestors were said to be pretty, and if I am the living picture of our grandmother than that makes I have more of what it takes to be a Queen than you."

Theresa laughed and said meanly. "Yes, sure. You do."

"I do."

"Being beautiful is not everything. I may be Theresa horse-face or what was it you called me? Theresa underfoot? No that is not it." She appeared to be in deep thought then her face lightened as she remembered something. "Theresa Ugly hag face. I might be all of these things little sister, but don't forget that people change and once I grow up, I will show my true beauty through my wits and you will keep being the same. Stupid just like the woman who gave you that face."

"You are an idiot Theresa. The only way that you can achieve all of these things is if you are Queen and I doubt that you will ever be loved."

"I will an I will be very acclaimed and you know why? Because people in England will cheer for me."

"The only way that will ever happen is if daddy dies. Do you want daddy to die?" She challenged, showing her best glare but it didn't intimidate her sister one bit who was used to dealing with bigger opponents than her sister who in her opinion was pathetic.

"Of course not you idiot. I didn't mean it literally, I mean that when I am Queen of Scotland and give the King many babies, daddy will reward me and I will get to be known as the most beloved in the lands."

"You mean the land."

"No, the lands. People will love me in Scotland as they will love me here."

"And what makes you think that the Queen of Scots will ever approve of her mortal enemy marrying his daughter to her son?" Nor asked. Seriously, she thought. Had her sister thought this through.

Theresa gave her a sardonic smile. "Oh Ely, don't you know? Fame favors the fortune." She said quoting from their favorite classical work, the Aeneid. "And when I give the King many heirs, I will be his queen of hearts and nobody will say a bad word against me, because I will be the epitome of the perfect Protestant Queen, out Protestant ranking our perfect big sister."

"I don't know Theresa, people love Vicky. They say that she takes after her mom, daddy's first wife."

"So? They said that all of your namesake's daughters will take after her and be a force to reckon with and just look how they ended!"

That was true. Eleanor of Aquitaine's fierceness was passed on to her sons and grandchildren but not her daughters. "Well ... Virginia is very Protestant and people call her Divine Providence's cherub."

Theresa broke in laughter. "That is because people are stupid and they base their opinions on looks alone. But they should just wait until they see me in magnificent clothes, dressed to be a queen. Oh Nor can you feel it!" She said hugging her little sister then withdrew and hugged herself, imagining the day. "Crowds cheering, courtiers saying that I am a role model among women. I will be like our great-grandmother Queen Katherine of Aragon."

At the sound of their ancestress who shall not be named, Nor gasped. "You shouldn't be saying that name here. She was the Princess Dowager, not a Queen."

"She was a Queen. Married and anointed and her daughter was a Princess just as we are, and just like them, I will go down in history."

Nor said nothing. She heard enough of those two women to know that she didn't want to be anything like them. How could her sister think that they were good role models? The women had plunged the country into civil war thanks to their stubbornness. If the Princess Dowager had only accept the King's deal, she and her daughter could have led a good life, far from the king's court and any temptations their grandmother received there.

People said that she looked like her, the infamous Duchess of Bavaria. "Same hair and same beautiful face. You are a jewel Nor." But she didn't feel like one and didn't like it when people bragged about how they were friends with her and how her mother showed her off before the Spanish ambassadors whom she told she was the perfect embodiment of what a princess should be like.

 _I don't feel like a good princess._ If it wasn't for her appearance, people wouldn't be speaking behind her back. Treating her special, or her father refusing to see her as much as he saw his other children, including her favorite sibling, William.

"Vicky is likely to go down in history with her marriage to King Philip."

"She can try but a promise to marry a king means nothing. Kings promise to marry their daughters to kings and princes all the time. Until he puts a ring in her finger, she will continue to be simple Princess Victoria, nothing more and nothing less."

 _So will you_. But instead of voicing her thoughts, she asked something that had been on her mind ever since the topic was brought up. "What about me? Will I get to marry a Prince too?"

"Hmm, I guess so. If the Spanish King doesn't postpone his visit like last time and he likes you, he could propose to marry you to one of his vassals. But it won't be the same. Youngest Princesses always get the raw deal because they are the last ones in the lines of succession. Except our great-grandmother but she is a special case because the Catholic Kings loved her so much." she gathered the jewels that had accidentally fallen on the floor when she chased her sister then said "See you later sister, I have a new to pick for the upcoming King's visit. Be sure to see me before the banquet. I want to show off my things before you. You are my best admirer."

Nor was like a little miniature of his mother, it alarmed Henry. Even her antics were similar. Nor tried very hard not to smile when she saw something funny but always failed miserably and ended up being attacked by laughter which once again reminded him of his mother because she would always try not to laugh at inopportune moments and feared to make everyone upset.

He sighed. He would have to find her a suitable husband soon and there were many amongst the German provinces, including those that were part of the Holy Roman Empire, that were around her age but they were so lower in status than her that he felt that none of them would do. Until he found a name in his surrogate father's family tree and upon closer examination he realized his problems were over.

Catherine wasn't pleased with it. He didn't expect she would. Their marriage had been strained the past two years. She tried giving him more sons and Henry knew how hard it was for her, to get used to her new adoptive country but she failed to understand the politics here. If she wanted to be accepted, she had to change, starting with her religion. But for Catherine, her religion was sacred. Which was another reason why she hated the idea of betrothing their youngest daughter to the future Elector Palatine.

"It is not on paper yet Catherine. But I want it to be. Frederick will be his father's son and his father ruled with an iron fist."

"His father was a staunch Reformist and his son is an indolent fool who will be ruled by his uncle. How can you marry our daughter to a man like that."

"We need this alliance. I don't know if Philip will keep his end of the bargain and besides, our daughter is still young. Many things could still happen."

Catherine didn't trust his judgment. She had been worried he was becoming too much like Bess and Cecil, and so, when they married she tried keeping him away from them. But Bess and Cecil were too strong. The man had been elevated to Baron despite her incessant protests. And to make matters worse, it was discovered that one of her ladies' servants was sending coded messages to the King of Spain. Catherine was questioned like she was some common criminal and went to Henry enraged, reclaiming him. But he told her that it was part of the law and they had an image to keep.

Bah! Image to keep. She was no fool, despite what his dearest auntie thought of her. Bess wanted to look for any way to turn her husband against her. But that woman had underestimated her just as Catherine had underestimated her. Catherine was not doormat, she wasn't like any other English Queen and just as Henry, she had Plantagenet and Trastamara royal blood flowing through her veins. If she thought that she was going to step aside, the woman didn't know her at all. Henry IX was her husband and she was not just any Consort, but the Queen of England and mother to the future King. It would be her descendants that people remembered, her blood who would continue to occupy the throne. Not hers. So she acted the part of the victim, knelt before Henry and let out the best weapon that a woman could have: her tears. And with them, she convinced Henry that she was innocent of the charges against her. Henry of course believed her because he knew his wife would never stab him in the back, but he didn't have the courage to step against his aunt as he had done when he saw his wife's tears, kneeling before him in front of all parliament. It was unheard of, for a Queen, especially a foreign Queen to burst into the audience chamber doors in this way but she had done it.

 _Take that Bess._ Her eyes told her as she left the audience chamber, thanking her husband for his merciful understanding.

"My daughter should be married ton someone higher."

"She is my daughter too Catherine, I didn't come to this decision lightly. I had to send many envoys to convince both of his parents. I know how this displeases you but she will be treated fairly."

"It is not that which displeases me and you know that."

"Catherine we are not having this discussion again." Henry said rubbing his eyes. "I came to this by myself. No one else was involved."

"You can tell yourself that all you want until you believe it but I know better." She said strongly and as she did, her accent became more pronounced. Then she said something in Portuguese which translated to "You can't let them control you anymore Henry. I am your wife, the mother of your children, you should have come to me first."

"I wanted to Catherine but would you have said yes?"

"That's not the point. You should have come to me. I am your wife."

"And I know that! But Bess has been with me since my mother's death. I had no one except for her. When my father was often away tending matters in Bavaria or in my mother's states which my grandfather was merciful enough to keep them as part of my inheritance. If it wasn't for her, I would have never been released from the Tower and ended up, moved from residence to residence, locked up like I was something shameful-"

"Like Mary Stuart?" She challenged.

"Yes!" His tone softened. "Catherine, please don't do this. I need you to support me on this. We need to stick together on this. They are not the enemy, we need strong allies and if this boy grows to become the man his father is, he will be a strong ally."

Catherine wasn't convinced but she didn't say anything else on the subject. The following day she found her oldest daughter playing with her brother after they had finished their lessons at the school room.

"Where is your tutor?" She asked them.

"He said he had to go see his daughter. She was feeling sick." Virginia answered, as always being the one who spoke first for her and her brother.

"Oh no, I hope it's nothing grave." Catherine said, feeling genuinely concerned. Their tutor was one of the few people who hadn't been very judgmental of her and her religion. And she didn't mind that he taught him his nonsense, as long as he didn't speak ill of her faith.

Virginia shrugged. "Sally says it isn't but her lady mother has been very sick lately. Mother, is it true that Vicky is going to marry our cousin?"

"Why, yes. But you must not refer to him that way when you meet him."

"How should we call him?"

"Your Royal Highness will do unless your father tells you otherwise."

"What will he be like? I heard that the Spaniards burn people and relish in seeing people suffer in other ways."

"I heard that they when they stick hot pokers through their behinds, they will scream for hours and King Philip will sit there brooding over why his God isn't letting him enjoy more pain." William added, smirking at the thought of man so evil like that.

"You shouldn't believe everything your aunt Bess and Cecil says. Your cousin has a different way of doing things but like all Kings he has his good sides too."

"Like what?" Virginia asked.

"He is a good family man. He is very close to his daughters and the oldest one, is considered the smartest girl in Christendom." She said, glad that her daughter was asking her these questions. Her youngest daughters were never this inquisitive. Whenever Theresa asked about something, it was usually just so she could prove a point and laugh about how nobody knew as much as she did or mock her little sister. And Eleanor ... Well poor Eleanor was never that bright.

"Is he going to bring his daughters to play?"

"I am afraid not mi amor, his daughters are a little older than you and still very young to travel this far."

"That's a shame, William and I would've really liked to meet them. We don't get to play with a lot of kids here. You should tell father to send more kids here."

"I will speak to your father but first you and William must promise me to be nicer to Alice. She is Angelica's daughter and she gets very sad that you don't play fair with her."

"But mother, we were being fair, weren't we William?" Her twin brother nodded, giving a toothy smile.

"I know you were sweetheart, but she is very sensitive and she is Angelica's only daughter." They moved their head in annoyance. "I am not asking you much Will, Virginia. Just be kinder to her. Kindness can go a long way and it will spare you a lot in the long run." _Believe me_ , she wanted to say.

Her children agreed. When she was gone, William turned back to his sister. "Told you she would swallow the bait."

"That's because you played it to perfection little brother." Virginia said, using the same sweet, melodic voice she was known for and had melted many people's hearts, including Cecil who was seldom known for showing any affection for anyone save for his family members.

"Don't call me that. I am two minutes younger than you."

"Which makes you my little brother." She repeated and he huffed, pushing the blocks, destroying the castle she constructed. "You need to control your temper. Mother is right, kindness will spare you a lot of trouble on your path to becoming King."

"I don't get why we have to act this way. Why can't we just tell her that we want our own castle?"

"Because little brother if we do, she is going to laugh at us and tell us how young we are. All in good time William. You and I are five. In seven more years we will be twelve and people will finally start taking us seriously."

"I hope so." William grumbled. He had been invested Prince of Wales and Lord of Snowdonia a year ago, which people thought it was too late since Princes of Wales were normally invested the year after their fathers became Kings or a year after they were born. But his father told his ministers he wanted to be cautious, and be sure that his son would remain healthy.

"I hope Nor can live with us when we get our own establishment. I like playing with her, she doesn't mind me taking the lead." _Unlike you,_ he left unsaid but it didn't matter because Virginia could tell by that look in his eyes.

She giggled.

"What's so funny?"

"Out of all the play-mates you can ask and you think of our little sister. I would have chosen Theresa. She is grouchy but at least she is interesting. Nor is dumb."

"No, she isn't!"

"Is!"

"Isn't!"

"Is!" Virginia said louder adding: "Our own mother admits it. When we tried getting her to practice falconry with us she cried for days and everyone was so worried she was going to die because she started ripping all her gowns, saying nobody loved her."

"She was afraid. Our cousin Julian got afraid of birds when he was her age and now look at him. Tough as a rock."

"That is what our father says but Julian just said that cock and bull story so miss pity me would feel better. She is odd William and the sooner you and everyone else admits the better. It is a miracle our father hasn't lost his wits yet." _God knows he closes his hands into fists every time he sees her and she starts crying for no reason._

She tried playing with her sister and calming her down many times, but Nor was a complete drama queen. One day she would say she was interesting in this and the next she will loose all interest for that thing and start on a new topic. She was never constant and all she cared about were gowns but she had the fashion sense of a commoner.

"I still feel bad for her."

"Well good for you. Maybe you are right though and she will become more mature as we get older." She said, adding the last sentence before her brother brought another senseless defense to their pathetic sister.


	3. Three People with a Secret

**A/N: Last chapter was my own tribute to a great legend, Lemmy from Motorhead. I couldn't believe when I saw the news this week that he died. Rock on forever Lemmy! He is now in Hell, wining against Pinhead no doubt. \m/**

* * *

 **Chapter 2: The King, the Ambassador and Countess have a secret**

 _ **"I see your face before my eyes  
I'm falling into darkness  
Why must I fight to stay alive?  
Heroes fallen  
Wake me can't you hear me calling?  
Out of darkness they come crawling **_

_**Here I am, I am lost in your land  
And I hope you will be creeping in my soul  
Shadows fall, let me out,  
hear my call  
and I'll always believe  
creeping in my soul  
Creeps from the deep's gonna be freaking up your mind  
creeps from the deep's gonna be feeding off the spine**_

 _ **I fade away into the night  
My eyes are closing in  
Shadows are fleeing from the light  
My nightmares can begin  
Wake me can't you hear me calling  
Out of darkness they come crawling**_

 _ **Here I am, I am lost in your land  
And I hope you will be creeping in my soul  
Shadows fall, let me out,  
hear my call  
and I'll always believe  
creeping in my soul  
Creeping in my soul is getting out of control  
I got to find my escape and get out of this black hole  
Justice int he world is hard to find  
time has come to make my mind  
no matter how deep or remote you hide  
all my thoughts seem caught up inside**_

 _ **Creeps from the deep's gonna be freaking up your mind  
creeps from the deep's gonna be feeding off the spine**_

 _ **Here I am, I am lost in your land  
And I hope you will be creeping in my soul  
Shadows fall, let me out,  
hear my call  
and I'll always believe  
creeping in my soul."  
**_ _ **~Creeping in my Soul by Cryoshell**_

 **Summer 1573  
Nonsuch Palace**

Nor asked Vicky to read her from her and Theresa's favorite book again. "I am going to try something new. Here."

Nor eyed the book curiously. "What's this? Le Morte d' Artur? Who was King Arthur?"

"He was the King who united all of Britain. He was a legend."

"What's a legend?"

"It's something that isn't true but at the same time, it isn't. You understand?" Nor shook her head. "You will understand someday." She began to read "After Master Walter map had put down in writing as much as he thought sufficient about the Adventures of the Holy Grail, his lord King Henry II felt that what he had done would not be satisfactory unless he told about the rest of the lives of those he had mentioned … So Master Walter begins … When Bort arrived at court in the city of Camelot from the faraway lands of Jerusalem, he found much there that had brought him…" When she got to the middle where Lancelot has one last encounter with Arthur and is accused of treason once again and must defend himself, Nor closed her eyes and fell asleep.

Vicky put the book down and blew off the light of the candle then went to her room. She never had this much fun with Theresa and her other siblings. Except Virginia. But Virginia was different. She always knew what Vicky liked and wasn't needy like William.

She sighed. Her maidens had already taken off. She hated the idea of marrying out of duty. It wasn't like she wasn't aware of it. Since she was three, she had been told that she had to marry so England could have a strong political alliance with another foreign country besides the Netherlands (where it continued to receive support from her father in spite of her betrothal). But did it have to be so soon? She was only fifteen. Who knew what this man was like? Sure, people said he was handsome. Blond face, blue eyes and fair face. But so what? Her father had all those features and he had gone off and stabbed her mother in the back while she lay dying and slept with that Catholic whore.

Philip was a Catholic and likely a hypocrite and at the first instance he got her pregnant, he would go running back to one of his whores _. This is all so messed up._ She wished there was some way that she could escape from this betrothal. _There has to be a way._ Her aunt Elizabeth escaped hers when she secretly married Robert Dudley. I could do the same. But then what? Her father would be utterly heartbroken. She always prided herself in being the good girl. Despite what Theresa said. She always obeyed her parents, even her stepmother. And not only would she be breaking her father's heart, she would be putting England in ridicule. No doubt Cecil and my aunt Bess will have loads to say to me if I go ahead with this.

Bess was able to get away with this because she was an elder, because she was smart and because she was her nephews and niece's favorite. And people loved her and Robert Dudley was popular in spite of his father and brother's executions, so there was no way that she was going to face any consequences except a short stay in the Tower which lasted only two months.

I must be smarter than this. I must be practical like my aunt Bess. People looked up to her, and if she did this, then it would be an insult to her mother's memory as well. No, I will close my mouth and do as I am told to show her (the self-righteous Catholic prig and her self-righteous ladies) wat I am made of.

When the day came to greet her betrothed, she wore her finest gowns. Green, silver and white. The Tudor colors with a matching French hood and small crown in front of it adorned with pearls and diamonds and other precious gemstones. She was nervous. She wasn't going to deny it when her father asked her how she was feeling. He told her she was going to do fine. She nodded.

Just breathe in and out. When he came forward, and the herald announced his full name and titles after the trumpets stopped, she couldn't believe what he was seeing. He was handsome. But not like she expected. His eyes were not warm or inviting like her father's or even her cousin's, Lizzie's oldest boy (Julian). They were cold, distant and he looked the other way when she stepped forward to pay her obeisance to him.

She felt like saying something but her stepmother put a hand on her shoulder.

"Dearest cousin, we welcome you to our shores. It has been so long since we've seen each other."

"Too long." Philip agreed. "And cousin, good to see you at last. You take after your Tudor forebears." He said, knowing this was exactly what his younger cousin wanted to hear. The Tudors were always known for their useless vanity.

"You flatter me, most say I take after our Plantagenet brood but what do they know, right?" Philip chuckled and followed the royal family to the table upon the dais where they enjoyed great food and merriment.

"How do you like England so far?" Henry asked, deeply cheerful to show off England's splendor to his foreign cousin and (hopefully if everything went according to plan) son-in-law.

"It is a beautiful country." He said. The two continued to engage in idle chatter until the King brought up the topic of his youngest daughter's betrothal. "My ambassador tells me that you've made a deal with the Netherlands and you have sent an embassy to the new Count Palatine. I am not one to tell another fellow monarch how to conduct business but seeing as we are family, and we will be more than cousins soon, I have to mention that the boy you will be marrying her to is an indolent fool."

Catherine turned to him and gave him that look that said See? I told you so. Henry hated that look. He kept up his pleasant façade, and told the King in a polite yet also firm manner: "Your Majesty, I understand that when our ancestors married they married under false pretenses. Some historians will say that they were fooled by Carrillo but those who knew them wrote that they were certain suspicions that they knew the bull they married under was fabricated but they did it anyway because it helped their goal of a united Spain." He knew he hit a chord when the King twitched his lips. "My youngest daughter is a Princess of the blood, worthy of Kings, Emperors even, but with no one left to marry, the only suitor left is Frederick V."

"The boy is not made from the same clay as his father. He will disappoint you." The King said with a light chuckle that was both amusing and funny when Lizzie who was all dressed in gold and white (a sign that she was out of her mourning period –something she was grateful, taken that she had not felt one ounce of sadness for her husband's sudden death) heard it. She was seated next to the King of Spain. A great privilege that many ladies, especially the Queen's ladies, and even her aunt's, envied her.  
At first she didn't mind. She didn't care that their cousin was coming over to Spain. She didn't find his presence that appealing when his ambassador boasted about how handsome and virtuous she was. Lizzie wanted to laugh in the ambassador's face when he said that. Virtuous? Him? The man who had had them all and made their ancestor Ferdinand II of Aragon look chaste in comparison? But when she saw him walking towards her brother and sister-in-law, she swallowed her words.

He was handsome, and his eyes held an intensity she had not seen in any man –or woman for that matter. She smiled at him, a small smile that she didn't think anyone noticed but he had, but he kept that knowledge to himself.

"People change. When Henry II was born he was nothing but a sickly boy and look what he achieved. Edward III was sickly for most of his teenage life and was his mother's puppet until he became a father. If my own experience has taught me anything is that once a man reaches that point when he is forced to take responsibility for his loved ones, he shows his true colors."

"You are right on your last point, but there is no cure for someone who has no interest in government." Philip said and there was a note of finality in his voice that put both the matter of his intended daughter's betrothal and her groom to rest, which Henry didn't like but unlike his namesake, he let it go and instead enjoyed the rest of the celebrations.

During this time Victoria tried to engage in idle chatter with the King. It was unfair that she was seated with next to her stepmother. "I should be seated next to the King." She'd told her but her stepmother had vehemently opposed it, saying it wasn't proper. She gave an inward sigh as he and her father continued to debate. She had many good opinions on the subject as well, but she remembered what her father always said 'A lady must be proper and must abstain herself from meddling in men's affairs.'  
It is not fair. Finally, she decided to make a bold move and stood up and walked towards him.

"Yes?" He asked calmly, looking up at his young betrothed.

"Would Your Majesty like to invite me to dance?"

The King rose an eyebrow. She was too forward for a lady, and even more forward for a Princess, but he guessed this was how they did things in England. He turned to her father, "If Your Highness' father does not mind?"

"None at all." Henry said, beaming as the King of Spain led his daughter down.

"She seems to be doing good for a first meeting."

"Not now Catherine."

"She is a Princess and she should start behaving as such. Just because she is your firstborn, doesn't mean she can do whatever she wants. It's not the wedding yet and she is behaving as if she is already the Queen of Spain."

"Catherine let it go. You wanted to hear someone else say the boy was foolish so you could say 'I told you so', fine you won. Say 'I told you so' but I will keep my opinion that the boy might still change because he might."

"And I will keep mine that he won't and you should look to others to wed her or better yet keep her here." Catherine said.

"Catherine, why are you so afraid? Eleanor is not the smartest pebble in our family, but she is my daughter and a Princess, she deserved the best. She is a Tudor."

"I bloody well know she is a Tudor but she also carries my blood and it angers me that you are still under Cecil and your aunt's thumbs."

"According to you I am under everyone's thumb except for you."

"Why must you bring Cecil and my lady aunt to every conversation? Cecil is my councilor, Walsingham is my master spy, and my lady aunt is … I already told you what she is. You have no right casting judgment of things you don't know."

"And you have no right selling our daughter to the lowest bidder. Are you not the King of England? You are letting them push you and push you."

"Nobody is pushing me. You are right I am King, and as King whatever they squabble over is decided by me. This was a decision I came to because it was what I wanted. Nobody made it for me. I introduced it to them and told them to send envoys to the Netherlands and across Germany to see who was the better 'bidder' as you put it, and Frederick IV's son happened to be that thanks to his age. Would you prefer I married her to someone twenty years her senior?"

"Of course not. But at any rate I wouldn't mind someone ten years older than her."

"Catherine why don't you admit that the only reason this bothers you is due to his religion. Not because of his title and Elector Palatine my love is a great title." He added quickly.

"It might be a grand title there but it means nothing here." She sighed and put her hand above his. "I just want us to be honest with each other."

"I know. And I promise you that I will keep you informed, but as King I have to keep some things secret, even from you." He said and she felt a knot form in her throat. She knew what kind of man she was marrying when she gave herself to him, body and soul, but she thought that he would be more open to her and break free from his aunt and Cecil's control for once.

"Have patience my love. I am doing what is best for our daughter, what is best for all of us. Trust me."

She wanted to believe him so bad, so she did taking that giant leap of faith which had landed her on the rocks so many times before.

* * *

Lizzie was humming in front of her mirror. Now that her husband was dead, she was freer to do what she wanted, and she didn't have to look behind her shoulder when she said an incantation, or said another prayer to get what she wanted. Tonight she was going to need all her powers of concentration for the following incantation. Her brother was already planning to marry her. In the past she had expressed interest in marrying Anne Stanhope's son by her husband, Edward Seymour, Viscount Beachamp now. But things had changed. Henry Carey had changed her for the worst and now that he was dead and she enjoyed the great power of independence, she wanted more. Not just more material goods, but more power.

Power was freedom and freedom meant everything for her. And this man could be the key to making her wishes come true.

"I will get what I want. Because I am a Tudor and I am my ancestresses' daughter." No other Tudor woman or descendant of Melusina who had inherited her gift, had the courage to tap into it because of what their religious tutors told them regarding witches and magic. Melusina was a demon, they said, and everyone who tapped into magic would go to hell.

But if hell meant a world of pleasure, and goods then Lizzie wouldn't mind going there. There had to be a god who was better than what the priests, Catholic and Protestants, held to be true. Their interpretation of God, didn't fit with her interpretation of what God stood for. Sometimes she wanted to tell them, that God was originally a woman whom Her prophets wrote as a woman because they were unable to deal with the truth about Her gender because that would mean that the women they had subjugated and humiliated in their lives deserved the same respect as they.

"Give me what I want." She said to the mirror. Behind her were seven black and white candles. One red candle and one blue. She didn't need magic to entice the King. He had already been enticed when he saw her, but a little magic from the Goddess wouldn't hurt.

As she said this over and over again and projected the image of King Philip before her as she closed her eyes, she felt a stirring in her loins and her hand reached down there and she was overtaken with desire.

* * *

Philip missed his friend, the Prince of Eboli, Ruy Gomez da Silva. After his death, he started sleeping with his wife, Ana Mendoza de la Cerda. She kept his bed warm after his wife had also died, ten months after Ruy. She died giving birth to their only son, Diego. The boy was very skinny and his doctors didn't think that he would live past his eighth birthday but Philip still bore hope.

It was why it was so imperative for him to marry again. He didn't like his first cousin Maria Manuela but he married her anyways because he wanted to be a good son, and he knew what his duty was.

This girl however was so different from Maria, and all the others. And he wasn't thinking of the Princess Victoria of Kent. The Countess Dowager of Hudson was a very attractive woman. She was afraid of engaging in any topic of conversation like her niece who shied, casting her eyes down, every time he asked for her opinion.

 _It is a shame._ Indeed it was that he couldn't marry someone like her. _Or that she can't be royal enough for me_. **But wait**. Who said she had to be royal enough for him? He was the King of Spain, wasn't he? He could marry whomever he wanted. As soon as the thought entered his mind it left because his reason came back and it told him what a fool he was for thinking such a thing.

 _But if you could._ It came back. _Imagine what statement you would give the rest of the world_. That the King of Spain is subject to no one, even to his own family.

It was true. He didn't like England, the country was foul and the climate was even fouler. There was hardly any sun! The only light he found when he stepped on this dreaded island is when he met her.

You have to do what you must. That voice told him. You are a King. Show them that you are no man's slave.

He was going to do just that. Possessed by his urge to see her, he left his apartments and ignored his ambassador's complaints and went to see her.

She was sitting in front of her vanity, putting on her oils to keep herself beautiful. It was a routine his second wife Isabel had followed as well. Before she put on her midnight gown, Philip burst in.

He was in total awe of her.

Lizzie let the gown fall down to her feet, Philip took one step forward, took her in his arms and claimed her as his own.

* * *

 _Years back a young man was looking down at his dying father. He had not looked at him since his mother died. Part of the reason was because his eyes reminded him of his lover and long-time companion, Maria Angeles. Though the two couldn't come out in the open, everyone in their household knew (or at least suspected) who she was._

 _"_ _Father, you must give me your blessing." Eustace looked the other way. He couldn't tell his son that he was proud of him although he wanted to. Pride breeds weakness and too much pride had been his grandfather's undoing and he feared it would be his eldest son's too. Although if truth be told, he didn't think of Henry IX as his son. There was too much Henry VIII in him for his own liking._

 _Christoph, Isabella and Elizabeth (whom they should have never left behind) were his true children. Henry was just a spur of seed, a thing begotten in the heat of the moment. Nothing more._

 _But seeing his son hopeful, to close to tears –which Eustace was averse to seeing on his youngest offspring- he gave it and then breathed his last._

 _Christoph didn't cry. His sister mourned their father for weeks and grasped his hand. "He died as he lived, close to the woman he loved."_

 _"_ _How do you know that?"_

 _"_ _Every time he saw us, he saw her. He always loved her and we must respect his memory. You especially will keep it alive when you take up his mantle as Imperial Ambassador." She said with a wink._

 _He chuckled. "Don't be too carried away. It's not like it is official yet. The King of Spain trusted my father because his father trusted him. I don't know if I can live up to his reputation."_

 _"_ _You will. You are the son of Eustace Chapuys, the most infamous man of England. People are already talking about you there, you know. Especially our long lost sister."_

 _He blinked. Really? "What are they saying, pray tell me."_

 _"_ _That you are handsome, assertive, and one tough son of a bitch like your old man."_

 _"_ _Good, I won't have a hard time intimidating them!" Both of them laughed. "Though I am not too keen to leave you and Nick."_

 _"_ _Nick and I can take care of ourselves. You go and live your life. I am sure Daniela can't wait to visit her mother's native land."_

 _"_ _Not so much. Daniela can't stop bragging about how Portugal is the best kingdom in the land. I don't think I will hear the end of it when I tell her we could be staying in England for years, maybe decades."_

 _Isabella rolled her eyes. "Don't so dramatic. You are the best he has. Once you get him his desired betrothal you will be free to come back home where you belong."_

 _"_ _I wish that were true but the King of England will not be too happy to see me. You know what he thinks of our father."_

 _"_ _Too bad for him and for our sister too if what she said about you is true. You are our father's son but you are also your own man and I know for certain that you will give all of those arrogant fools, hell."_

 _"_ _I am sure going to miss you sister."_

 _"_ _I know. Me too." She said and gave him one parting hug._

The next day he told Daniela about his assignment. She said very little except her usual complaints about her mother's native country. How they had mocked her, nearly raped her grandmother, and she wanted nothing to do with it and she would be damned if she admitted she was half English. Christoph understood her –more than she was willing admit he did- but he didn't think it was healthy to blame an entire people for what happened to her maternal family.

His mother was born and raised in England and despite what had happened to her, she never forgot about her native country and spoke about it constantly. His father seldom agree with her views, but didn't stop her when she told them about her life, because he knew how much that meant to her. Daniela on the other hand found it much easier to blame an entire group of people for the sins of a few.

Christoph wouldn't have minded her hatred if it wasn't for the simple fact that he saw hate as useless.

Hate got you nowhere. It clouded your judgment and from what his father told him, it stopped you from doing your job.

It was why he found it so important to remind his wife the minute they stepped on this island to push aside all the previous notions she had on these people, and make friends with as many of the highborn women as she could, so he could have easier access to information.

It wasn't easy for her but she did it because she also understood him and how much this meant for him and his master. When he learned of his brother's marriage and his second wife's pregnancy, he was the first ambassador to report it, making him one of the most envied and hated amongst his peers, even amongst his brother's courtiers who were angry that he'd been one step ahead of them.

His father had been a legend in this country, not a good one but a legend nonetheless and he was happy to step into his shoes but he was also angry because his father would have been two steps ahead of them by now, thwarting whatever plans they had to make this union happen.

This union, he told himself, was not only the culmination of everything he had worked very hard for –to achieved peace between both kingdoms, but also of a promise he had made his father that he would keep his memory alive by preventing another Tudor from ruining his plans.

And that Tudor, he was saddened to say was none other than his half-sister. "God-damn her."

* * *

Lizzie woke the following morning in the King's arms. A smile graced her lips as she felt him hug her tighter. She was now his, her spell had worked. Nobody would stand in her way anymore. Not weighing the consequences of her actions, Lizzie closed her eyes and let sleep take her once more as the King opened his eyes and kissed her lips.


	4. God Helps Those who Help Themselves

" _ **Leave me out with the waste,  
this is not what I do  
it is the wrong kind of place  
to be thinking of you  
it's the wrong time  
for somebody new  
it's a small crime  
and I've got no excuse  
Is that alright? Yeah  
Give my gun away when it's loaded  
Is that alright? Yeah  
If you don't shoot it how I'm supposed to hold it?**_

 _ **Is that alright? Yeah  
Give my gun away when it's loaded  
Is that alright with you?**_

 ** _Leave me out with the waste_**  
 ** _this is what I do_**  
 ** _It's the wrong kind of place_**  
 ** _to be cheating on you_**  
 ** _it's the wrong time_**  
 ** _But she's pulling me through_**  
 ** _It's a small crime_**  
 ** _and I've got no excuse_**  
 ** _Is that alright? Yeah_**  
 ** _Give my gun away when it's loaded_**  
 ** _Is that alright? Yeah_**  
 ** _If you don't shoot it how I am supposed to hold it?_**

 ** _Is that alright? Yeah  
Give my gun away when it's loaded  
Is that alright with you?  
Is that alright? Yeah  
give my gun when it's loaded  
Is that alright? Yeah  
If you don't shoot it how I am supposed to hold it?  
Give my gun away when it's loaded  
Is that alright with you?  
Is that alright? Yeah_**

 _ **~9 Crimes by Damien Rice**_

"I don't know what is worse. My sister screwing with the fucking King of Spain and you are laughing about this."

"It is funny! You should put that the other way around. Your sister is screwing up your plans because for once she is convincing the King not to take orders from anyone, including from you and fuck whoever he wants."

"He can fuck whoever he wants! He is the fucking King of Spain, Naples, and the second most powerful man in the world after his cousin. He has been fucking whoever he wants, and screwing up behind their husbands' backs for years since he was still in the school room."

"Don't get too upset about this Christoph."

"I have every reason to be upset Daniela! I have been working for years for this alliance and that … that … woman has to ruin everything."

"You are one to complain. You said that we would be out of here within a year once you convinced your brother to give up his claim-"

"Daniela." He warned then opened the door to make sure that all their servants were gone. She however ignored him and continued on talking.

"-to the Portuguese crown. That was four years ago. I am about to have my second child and you are still squabbling with your brother over trade routes."

"He is not my brother and yes I will continue to squabble until he stops stealing from Spanish galleons."

"That is never going to happen. If I learned one good thing from my mother is that the English are too proud and they will never admit to stealing even when everything points to that. You will have just as much luck having your sister admit to fornication with your King."

"Don't call her that here."

"Oh yes that is right. There might spies lurking around every corner." She chuckled and waved her hand dismissively. "Relax Christoph. Even Knollys' servants aren't stupid enough to spy on us after everything they've heard of you thanks to your father's infamous reputation."

"Don't remind me." He sighed and sat on the bed. Daniela sat next to him. "I just want both our countries to be in peace. Is that too much to ask? My father always said be weary of the Tudors. They are great and terrible –he said."

"What did your mother say?"

"She didn't have much of an opinion on them. She wanted me to stay out of politics and pursue a career in the church. Can you believe that?"

She could. Christoph's mother was a very devout woman and despite the nature of their relationship, she and Chapuys wanted both of their children to grow up as good, devout Catholics. Christoph was the embodiment of that dream. He was the perfect altar boy and never missed a school lesson, and at his father's meetings with the most important diplomats, he was always there. Attentive, silent and observant. His parents were very proud when another one of the Emperor's diplomats came to his state in Antwerp to ask him for his advice regarding an important mission; Eustace was just about to give him advice when his son took the words right out of his mouth. The Emperor's diplomat was so impressed that he told Eustace that his son was a true prodigy and he should take after his position once his term was over. Eustace was against the idea at first but when he saw how devoted Christoph was to her, and probably overheard him tell her that if he could, he would be like his father but he was afraid of telling him because he wouldn't approve; Eustace started to tell him about his old days at the English, Spanish and Imperial courts.

"Good thing you didn't follow your mother's wishes then."

"I guess so. Daniela I know I promised you many things and believe me, I want to make them come true but this is who I am. I promised my father that I would never disappoint him and I intend to honor that promise by keeping his memory alive and the only way I can do that is by achieving what he never could: perpetual peace between both nations."

"Oh Christoph …" She put her hand on his cheek "your father knew that was impossible. It is best you let things take their natural course. If the King is as wise as you say then he will heed your advice but if not, then let it go. Your job here is done as far as I can tell."

* * *

Christoph wasn't convinced by Daniela's words and the following morning he went to have a private audience with one of his informants. To his surprise not once or twice, but the King of Spain had actually visited his sister's chambers for more than two times a day and was seen coming out at early times of the day by few of her maids. He paid the man twice in silver and added extra so he could bribe her maids.

He waited until she was alone in her chambers so he could have a private audience with her. When he entered her chambers uninvited, she smiled. He expected her to be angry, even frustrated but instead she was happy, giving him a smile that largely resembled her brother's.

"So, you've seen us."

"I have and so have your maids." Her smile remained, plastered on her face as if she was the goddess Eris, Discord, herself, ready to cause more havoc. "What do you expect to achieve by this, my lady? Do you think that idle threats will work against me this time?"

"And what do you mean by idle threats, Excellency or should I say … little brother? We both know that the real reason why you hate me is because my face reminds you of your true lineage."

"No, your face disturbs me because it reminds me of the arrogance of you and your whole lot." She chuckled at that. "Laugh all you want but you and I both know that the King will never choose you over your better half, a true Princess born and raised, not a bastard born out of common clay. A woman who has probably been in every bed in London."

"And what if I have? Are you going to stop me from having a little bit of fun before I die? Because I assume you come here to give me an ultimatum."

He took a step further and squeezed his fists. How he wanted to raise his hand against her, the way his father nearly had when he mistreated one of their servants. In spite of being well off, his parents had always tried to teach him and his sister that just because of their father's station in life (and their secret lineage) that didn't make them special. _"The world doesn't owe you anything. You make your own luck in life and if you can't give others the same respect you want others to give you, then you are not deserving of what you have."_ But Elizabeth FitzTudor who had everything handed to her, even when she was married to that lowlife Carey, grew up with no sense of decency or self-respect.

"Contrary to what you think of me, my lady, I don't threaten women, even high-born women who pretend to pass up as decent people but are no better than the painted whores at the back alley in London's best brothels."

"Your father would have known all about them wouldn't he? I am sorry, did I strike a chord there. I just hear all kinds of stories about him, my favorite is that he was not afraid to shove his cock and stab any young maiden he could come in contact with. Makes sense, given that he sired two bastards well into his old age. The only way he could do that is if he was fucking since he was twelve."

"You know nothing about my father. Your father if you were woman enough to admit it. If he were here, you would not be talking in such vulgar manner."

"You are right, I wouldn't, but thank god he isn't. He is six feet under, his corpse rotting and being eaten by the worms and probably burning in hell for everything he did." She said, feeling invigorated by every word she said as she watched the Spanish Ambassador's mouth twitch and his eyes harden in anger. "The King of Spain will be mine and there is nothing you can do about it. I am simply taking what is mine just like my grandfather did."

"We will see about that. Henry VIII took whatever he wanted but he sent his country into endless wars. If you really intend to become his Queen then be ready to live with the consequences because I can assure you, nobody in Spain will see you as a goddess and revere you as this country did with his late Majesty. They will see you for what you are: a common whore!"

"Just like my mother then. A whore who slept with every man."

"Don't you dare-"

"And let that bastard Ambassador sheath his sword inside her while her husband lay dying in St. Omer, fighting wars that were not his to fight."

"If you ever speak a word about my mother I swear to God I will-"

"What? What will you do. Stab me too?" She chuckled madly "Take me in your strong man arms and drop your seed on me? I know you want to, I have seen the way your eyes linger at me. You want to know what it is like to have this bitch, to insert your male organ into me and have handsome yellow haired babies, perfect, royal ..."She said, putting a finger on his lips which she withdrew when he took a step back. "Your eyes don't lie ... little brother."

"Go to hell. I am glad that my mother left this country because you and your family are nothing but a plague upon this Earth." Christoph said. "Mark my words my lady, the King can visit you all he wants, he can promise you the world but even if you achieve everything you set for yourself, he will never give you his heart because my master as my father's late master cares for nobody but himself."

"That's because he has never met his true love."

Now it was Christoph's turn to laugh out loud. "True love? God help us all, you are truly delusional. There is no such thing as true love in royal marriages my lady, it is all about political alliances, plain and simple. The King will never –I repeat- NEVER give his heart to you. He will NEVER love you, NEVER worship you, and NEVER marry you because he _dear sister_ is a King and you are a bastard and Kings do not marry bastards!" With those final words he left, slamming the door behind him.

* * *

Philip took off his red feathered hat. He had promised Elizabeth that he would visit her tonight, later than usual after his dinner with their Majesties and his betrothed, Princess Victorian. He was anxious to tell her all about it. There weren't many people he could confide in –except his dear friend, the Prince of Eboli and Christoph (at times) but the latter tended to take things too seriously. Lizzie –as everyone called her- became the only person he could really vent his frustrations to. She was calm and attentive. She never lost her patience, even when he became angry at the end of every narration and told her in his usual seriousness how he was growing tired of her niece's endless attempts to get him interested in her.

Tonight was going to be no different. Lizzie loved her niece. He could tell by the way she spoke of her with such respect –more than any other royal family member- and said that he could be very happy if he still went ahead with her brother's betrothal agreement and made her his Queen. Philip told Lizzie that he had no doubt that Victoria would make a great Consort, but he wasn't convinced that she would make a good Queen. There was too much rebelliousness in her like her father which could die down once she became a mother to his children, but it would all be exorcised from her. In contrast, Lizzie was a mature woman, older than her niece, but younger than him and already proven herself to be fertile and if it wasn't for her unknown father, she would have made for a better candidate than Victoria.

But when he entered her room he heard crying and he forced himself into her bedchamber where she was sprawled on the bed, her head buried in one of the pillows.

"Lizzie, what is the matter."

"It is Christoph. He was here. He said …"

"What?" He demanded, ready to wrap his hands around his ambassador's neck. He was well aware of Christoph's parentage as Eustace Chapuys had confided in him when he visited him a month before his death. At first he didn't want to believe it but when he finally saw his cousin, he realized everything that old man said was true. So he felt even angrier as Lizzie started to relate everything her brother told her.

"That sniveling-"

"No, Philip. He's right … I am a whore. Just look at us. What future could we have together? You are a King and I am a … I am a bastard. It would never work."

"All Kings and Queens descend from bastards. The Trastamaras, our ancestors descended from a bastard as well and yet he saw an opportunity and became the first King of his dynasty to rule in Castile and his descendants later ruled Aragon and later on united both kingdoms and look at us now. Here we are. Just because your parents weren't married, doesn't mean you are hindered by their sins. The fact that you captured a King's heart makes you even greater than all the Princesses and high-born women of your generation."

"It is true what they say about you."

"Oh really?" He asked amused, raising an eyebrow. "What do they say about me?"

"That you are a true romantic and have a way with words than no other person, or other King has."

"Well they exaggerate. I do ascribe to what I say. You are beautiful Elizabeth and I wouldn't want another woman to rule by my side but you." He kissed her and with that erased all her doubts.

* * *

"I hate this country, I do, I really, I really do."

Daniela put her hand on his shoulder.

"Why is she doing this? What does she think she can gain with this?"

"I don't know, a crown maybe?"

"She will never marry him. The King needs to marry a royal Duchess, the sister of a ruling Duke, a Princess, a Dauphine, not a … bastard!"

"Christoph you are overthinking this too much. So what if the king wants to be happy for once? She is your sister, you should be supportive of his decision."

"She is not my sister Daniela. My duty is to my master, the King first and foremost. Not to her."

"Have you ever stopped to think that your sister is hurting deep down because your parents abandoned her instead of taking her to Antwerp? That this is her way of manifesting her frustrations?"

"So I am supposed to go easy on her because she has abandonment issues? People love their King because he can put duty above love unlike his father, grandfather and great-grandfather. This alliance can the thing that finally brings peace to years of unending strife between England and Spain since the King's grandfather divorced his first wife. And she is standing in the way of progress because she wants to play Queen. What qualifications does she have to be Queen? She is a nobody. A Whore!"

Daniela rolled her eyes. "Christoph you cannot seriously be calling your sister a whore. What is your mother if not your father's mistress?"

"My mother was a decent woman who taught her children well, that thing, regardless of what you and the King think, is not my sister and not equipped to be Queen of the most powerful nation in Christendom. I won't allow it." He said, feeling more determined and bolted out of their chamber.

Daniela rolled her eyes again after her husband left the room, locking the door behind him. It was clear that this was getting them nowhere and his schemes would get him nowhere. _I have a bad feeling he will regret this in years from now._

And she wasn't wrong.

The King of Spain was a lusty man like his ancestors, but he was also an understanding one and once he saw something, he was convinced he had to have it by any means necessary. He had picked Elizabeth as his Queen, and he was just as determined as her enemies were to bring her down, to make his dream come true.

Behind the King's mask of kindness there was also an intense darkness that very few saw. Those that didn't, underestimated him, while the others mistook it as something they could curb by pandering to him. Neither side realized how devious the King of Spain could be, how good he was at manipulating people, framing them, and bending them to his will. If he wanted something, he got it. Plain and simple. He played the role of the merciful king when it suited him, and gave out a helping hand to those who believed they needed it, and when it was time to get rid of them, Philip would turn their back on them by sending his spies to have them turn their backs on him first –giving him the perfect excuse to dispose of them.

Elizabeth wasn't stupid. She knew what kind of man she was marrying when he proposed to her, and what kind of havoc would rain on her once he placed the crown he promised her on her head. But did she care? After everything she had been through, begging for love in a cold environment where all she got was a brute for a husband and two brats she could barely stand; she was going to take his offer and wash herself of any moral compass she might have.

"My mother had my father. My father had my mother, and my grandfather had as many wives as he wanted. And my brother got to sleep with the richest heiress in Portugal under her dying husband's nose. I deserve my fair share too."

She figured, after everything her family had done, this would probably not be the worst thing in history. As soon as she brought Philip a healthy son, then they could negotiate with her brother to marry him to one of his youngest daughters. Perhaps Virginia, she was the more beautiful of the lot, or even Eleanor. That would put her sister-in-law's mind at ease, and stop her husband from sending their youngest daughter to Germany.

Everything would work out in the end. She was certain of it.

* * *

While Lizzie was busy talking to herself, and the King was playing the role of the good friend to the King and Queen and his betrothed; Cecil and the Marques of Pembroke discussed the new bit of information they received from their spy.

"So the King's sister intends to have the King's seed bring fruit so she can soil on our Majesty's plan for perpetual peace?" Cecil mused aloud, passing the letters he got from the Countess' drawer to her aunt.

Elizabeth Tudor-Dudley couldn't believe what she read. "That ungrateful bastard!" She tore the letters and tossed the bits and pieces to the fireplace, watching the flames consume them.

She had raised Lizzie all on her own along with her brothers after the Lord Protector lost his life in her brother's reign. She was the last person she expected to betray them.

"You have to admit it my lady, she is rather ambitious as yourself. I would have never have expected it out of her. Her Majesty perhaps, but not her." Cecil said. "We will have to move fast. If the King of Spain intends to make her his queen then he will announce it to the King during the celebrations, possibly tomorrow during the joust. We must avoid that at all costs. We can afford our nation being ridiculed by a lover's game."

"Do not call it that Lord Burghley. She is not his lover, I don't know what she is but she is not his lover."

"Well she must be since they are found in each other's arms by her servants every night."

"She is just a silly idiot who thinks she can best us. Us! True loyal Englishmen who have dedicated their lives to serving the crown. If she wasn't my niece I would strangle her right now."

"My lady I am sure that can be arranged." Cecil said with a chuckle.

"Be serious Lord Burghley, if this gets out it will make all of us the laughing stock of Europe, not to mention that it will create a war between both our countries. A war that my nephew can't afford."

"Your love of your nephew is duly noted Madame, however we must inform him since this concerns him and I trust you will agree, he will know what to do with his ungrateful sister."

 **~o~**

Another good night and another good morrow. Or at least, that is how it would have felt if she didn't say his name out loud. "Mmm Philip .." She moaned as she felt a soft hand on her naked shoulder. She wanted him inside of her again, she was pretty sure that his seed had taken root and if he told the King his decision to marry her, she could tell him of her suspicions, fueling his excitement and his determination to make her his queen.

Unfortunately the response she was expecting from her beloved wasn't what she got at all. Roughly handled and forced to stand up, she shouted "Philip what is the meaning-" but got cut off by her brother whom she saw in front of her once she opened her eyes, along with her aunt, Cecil and Walsingham.

"Henry." She breathed. Oh no. How had he found out? "Henry, I can explain-"

Henry slapped her and she fell to the ground clutching her cheek, groaning as Henry took her hand once again and forced her to stand up.

"You miserable bitch. Do you have any idea of what you've done? You've made me and my family the laughing stock of Europe! Never, Never! Did I expect you to do to me."

"Henry, please you are hurting me. Brother, let me explain!"

"Oh so it is brother now? What about the times you were complaining about how I mistreated you and demanded more land from me, even though I had already given you enough. No other King would have given his sister that much power, especially one who was born out of wedlock and shame."

At this, her eyes flared and she forgot about her nakedness or the fact he was still holding her arm, and squeezing tighter, leaving his fingerprints on her skin. ""How dare I? How dare you?! You have always been worried of not being strong or great enough like our grandfather and you should be because you will never be like him! You will go down in history as another Henry VIII want-to-be, and I will be remembered as the Consort of the most powerful man in the world, a man with such wealth that you can only dream of. Yes Henry, me. The bastard, the whore. I will be the one who gives him children, healthy sons and they will live on and rule for many years while yours will probably die."

"You whore!"

"Yes Henry, I am a whore. I am everything they say but this whore will get to be a Queen just as our mother dreamed she could be. You gave me nothing but chains. You and my aunt forced me to marry that no good cousin of hers instead of Edward, the man you knew I was meant for. You ruined my life!"

"Is that what you really thinking I did sister? Well congratulations because your ungrateful brother will now make it up to you. Aunt tell her what we have in store for her."

The Marquis of Pembroke stepped in. She handed Lizzie a robe and waited until she put it on so she could tell her the 'glorious' news. "His Majesty and I have been discussing with his master spy Walsingham and Lord Burghley about your desire of marrying the Earl of Hertford all those years ago and we see no reason why you shouldn't marry him now."

"What?!" This couldn't be true. It couldn't. "No, I refuse it!"

"Cheer up sister, this is what you always wanted, wasn't it?"

"But he's married-"

"Which is no longer a nuisance given that Katherine Grey died last week." Her aunt said. "You will have to wait at least a year before his mourning period is over, but given how much you and Edward were attached …" she smiled a sardonic smile "I am sure we can make an exception."

"No! No, I won't allow it! Henry, you can't do this to me. I love Philip, you must let me marry him."

"Must? Who said this was anything about love sister? Philip is his own man, he wants what he cannot have. You are just another luxury toy for him. Believe me, he will discard you just as he easily discards his other women once he tires of you. I am doing this protect you."

"Some protection." She spat. "How can you be so cruel to someone you claim to love?"

"This is not about you sister, it is about the country. Philip will marry my daughter, the alliance will go on without you to hinder it and you will marry your childhood sweetheart. Everyone gets what they want, everybody happy." He gestured to her maidens. "Dress your mistress, she will be traveling to Coldharbour where she will stay until I see fit to call her again. See, sister? I am just looking out for you."

"You miserable bastard!" She raised her hand at him but he caught in mid air.

She flinched as he squeezed tighter. "Don't do that. I am reasonable as I can be but I have my limits and believe me when I say this, you do not want to overstep them." He let her go and left the room with the men, leaving only his aunt and her maidens in the room.

Lizzie looked pleadingly at her.

"Don't even think about it. I raised you to be better than this. You spat in the face of everything this nation stands for. You do realize that you could have caused a war? Is that what you wanted Lizzie?"

"No."

"Then what did you expect you would get from this?"

"I … I …"

"What?" Bess asked sharply.

"I just wanted to have something. Someone to love and cherish me. You have no idea aunt what it is like to be a bastard, to have everyone laugh at you, mock you. My husband raped me, he forced himself on me every night and day and when I begged him to stop he would just laugh, spit on me and tell me that I should take it. I just wanted to be part of something special for once." She was in tears.

Bess shook her head and laughed. "Sweet girl, poor summer child." She said, and her voice calmed Lizzie at first because it was sweet and gentle like she remembered when she was a little girl but then it turned vicious and cold and Lizzie tried to back away but her aunt held her down, grabbing both her arms and digging her nails into her skin as her maids washed her with wet cloths.

"You don't get to fall in love with whoever you want! Haven't I taught you nothing? Happiness is the one thing we women, especially us royal women cannot have. You want to cry, you want to shout because everyone was mean to you? Nobody was kind to me after my mother got her head chopped off. I had to survive from the table scraps my former servants ate from the dinner table because suddenly I wasn't royal anymore, and it was your mother who brought me back to court, but as a reminder of her kindness. She never cared for me. I had no one to speak for me but myself and I got to where I am today thanks to that. By accepting my lot in life, and taking what I was given and making something of myself. Instead of crying and blaming everyone else for your misery, you should rejoice because if this was any other King he would have killed you by now."

Bess let her go and threw her hands in the air as more tears fell down her niece's cheeks. This girl was impossible. She was throwing everything away, and for what? Love. What stupidity. Her mother had lived by that motto and it got her nowhere. You made your own luck in life, and the only reason why things had not been good to her niece was because she was an idiot who didn't know how to use the few tools she'd been given.

 _It's no wonder why my sister landed herself in that mess._ She found it ironic. She always feared that Henry would be the one who mirrored his mother more but it turned out it was Lizzie.

Bess couldn't help but be saddened by this. She loved that girl, defended her when nobody else would, and even fought with her cousin, Carey, when she found out that all of the allegations against him were true. _I should have never have done that. I only made her weaker._ Love had made her weaker. It had made her dependent and wicked. If Bess had only left her to her own devices, then Lizzie would have learned how to defend herself and not become the plotting witch she was now.

This was going to make the King of Spain angry for sure. From what little she had interacted with him, she had learned that he was not a man to mess with. Like her father if he saw something he took it. And if his infatuation with Lizzie was as strong as she claimed it was then it would be difficult to convince him of the _wonders_ of marrying Princess Victoria.

* * *

Inside the King's study, a lonely figure waited for Henry IX to arrive. He had been waiting for years to see the face of his firstborn son by his one true love and when he finally saw him, a grown man, not the boy who had visited him on Annency, he was overwhelmed. But those feelings soon ceased once his son told him that he wanted nothing to do with him and turned his back on him. Eustace didn't leave him. He couldn't. For some odd reason fate had placed him here, in the land of the living and as much as he wanted to leave he couldn.t

There were some perks of arguing endlessly with his son however. He got to see his younger grandchildren, especially Princess Eleanor who was always getting into trouble with her brother when they played hide and seek and snuck into his study.

Eustace couldn't believe his eyes when he saw her. She was so beautiful. And not just for her appearance but her kindness as well. She had Mary's naivety as well. He wished that his lover was here with him so she could see her granddaughter. She would be so proud of her.

He didn't know how to feel about his eldest grandchild, Princess Victoria. He rarely saw her. Henry didn't allow her to come to his study because he didn't want Eustace to see her, but he could tell that she was already as wise and feisty as her grandmother, Queen Katherine of Aragon.

Eustace perked up his head. He thought he heard her and opened the door but he just saw her with her back turned against him, talking to her best friend Lettice Knollys (also known as her father's whore).

"So you think that he really likes me?" Victoria asked her.

They must be talking about Philip, but he was soon proven wrong by her friend's response.

"Of course he does. Did you see how he winked at you when the King was too busy not paying attention at you? I am telling you, your cousin fancies you."

"I don't know Lettice. I think he is cute and he would certainly make any girl happy but my father wants me to marry the King of Spain, and I must obey him. He is not just my dad but my King as well."

"I know but you make royal duty sound so boring. Look at me, it is always a party when I am with your dad."

Eustace already didn't like Lettice. Judging by the tone of voice his granddaughter was using, she was being cautious, not revealing too much about herself, or how she felt about her cousin. She's just like her mother and her mother. If he could only reveal himself without scaring her and tell her this, and also tell her many other things, but Eustace knew better so he just continued to listen to the two young women behind the door.

"He is my cousin. They both are my cousins. But Philip is a King and I will do what is asked of me if needs be."

"Ugh there you go again with royal duty. You should loosen up once a while. It's not like you are going to see him again day and day out. Kings rarely visit their wives, except your father and even then, he is still with me because your stepmother does nothing more than moan and moan about how this is not ok, this is bad. If you really want some freedom, try out your cousin and then say your goodbyes and marry the King. Voila! Problem solved."

"I would never do that to my husband."

"Why not? He will do that to you, you know that. He is just like his father."

"I know but that is not the person I want to be."

"Suit yourself, you will leave all the handsome men to me then." She said and the two walked away.

Eustace was impressed by the way his granddaughter handled that without being too defensive. If he could only reach her, his stay amongst the living wouldn't be so terrible.


	5. Love Turned into Betrayal & Ambition

**Chapter 4: Love Turned Into Betrayal, Ambition Turned to Love**

 _ **"No light, no light  
in your bright blue eyes**_  
 _ **I never knew that a light could be so violent**_  
 _ **a revelation in the light of the day**_  
 _ **You can't choose what stays and what fades away**_  
 _ **and I'd do anything to make you stay**_  
 _ **No light, no light, no light**_  
 _ **Tell me what you want me to say**_  
 _ **You want a revelation. You want to get back**_  
 _ **But it's a conversation I can't have tonight**_  
 _ **You want a revelation some kind of resolution**_  
 _ **You want a revelation**_  
 _ **You want a revelation, you want to get back**_  
 _ **but it's a conversation I can't have tonight**_  
 _ **You want a revelation, some kind of resolution**_  
 _ **Tell me what you want me to say ..."**_  
 _ **~No Light by Florence and the Machine**_

 _ **"I will take you down the only road  
I've ever been down  
You know, the one that takes you  
to the places where all the ends meet, yeah."  
~Bittersweet Symphony**_

Elizabeth was sent to Coldharbour. It was the home of her great-great grandmother, Margaret Beaufort, where she had welcomed the Queen Dowager Elizabeth Wydeville and her daughter, Elizabeth of York after her son's triumphant entrance to London. The King's mother was so excited to greet her son after fourteen long years of exile, and to present him his future bride.

Lizzie didn't know if the rumors about her namesakes were true, but she heard from some of Anne's servants, that the Princess of York had been romantically involved with her uncle, and the only reason why she agreed to marry Henry VII, was because her mother forced her and had no other choice.

'Is this what is to become of me right now as well?' She didn't realize that she said this aloud as her aunt laughed and told her to stop day dreaming. "You are not the only who's lost everything. I lost my mother and the only person I could rely on was myself."

"I know, you told me that Auntie Bess."

"Apparently I didn't tell you enough. When your mother came to me at Hatfield, I had nothing. I repeat, I had nothing. She didn't care, as long as it made her look good."

"That is not what Susan or the Duchess told me."

Bess laughed. "The Duchess felt sorry for your mother and Susan was her best friend. They would see her in a good light of course. For Susan especially, your mother was a saint but I saw her for who she was. When Kitty Howard came and genuinely gave me her friendship, did you think your lady mother thank her for that or she befriended her as well? She told me, she is the devil, she is a harlot. She was this close of saying she is a harlot like your mother, but my puppy-eyes stopped her. See, I learned at a young age dear, that tears are a woman's greatest strength and I learned through my mother's example, from what I was told by Kat Ashley -what your mother didn't want me to know- and Kitty Howard, how to be a lady and that saved me from the poor house an being pitied. Your mother however, always looked to the horizon, always thought of herself better than anyone. Who was she? She didn't have a title, nothing without our father and her reluctance to admit it, brought her a lot of pain. You think you deserve something because of who your mother was, well here is the sad news dearest niece: You don't get to have anything just because you want it. Welcome to life."

Just as Bess was about to turn and leave, she was stopped by her niece's voice. "So is that it? Just get used to it and go on with your life?"

"That is the only thing we can do. We are women dear, and without a title and marriage we are nothing."

"But you chose your husband. You didn't care what my brother or anyone said, you chose him and you are happy."

"That is true but it did cost me, far more than you can ever imagine. Your brother, King Philip, nearly executed him for it. He would have if he didn't die so suddenly and so conveniently. Your brother took the throne and he let us be. For many years though, people looked at us like we were a pair of moral deviants. Royals don't get to live happily ever after, that is the rule when you are in politics. This is the life we were born for, and we can't afford to break the rules."

"I don't believe that." Bess rolled her eyes. "And I know you don't believe it either. Search your heart, if you could do it over again, would you still marry him?"

"Of course I would. But I am not a monarch's sibling, you are and who is to say that the King didn't bed you so he could use you as a figurehead and take us all out at once? It's not unheard of you know. William was a bastard after all and even though England has never had a Queen Regnant, Matilda was this close to becoming one. You could very well be his fucking puppet."

"He loves me."

"You are really an insufferable creature." She grabbed Lizzie's hand and she flinched as her aunt dug her nails in her skin again. "I stuck by you, watched over you, and spoke for you when no one would. If it wasn't for me you would be dead now like your no good mother. I am telling you now: Grow up! He will never love you, he will use you just like my cousin used you. All men are like that, even your real father."

Lizzie's eyes turned wide. She didn't think her auntie could've known.

Bess smiled sardonically "Oh yes, I know. Mary always thought she was two steps ahead of everyone, and the ambassador too but I could see right through him, the way he looked at your mother, when she disappeared for days end. One day I couldn't resist my curiosity so I followed her. There she was, naked as the day she was born, mounted by your father."

"Henry is ..." Lizzie was about to say, her voice hard and her glare intensified, the harsh truth about her _half-brother_ but Bess beat her to it.

"Your father's bastard? I know. I have always known ever since that night, when your mother's belly was barely showing and she was pregnant with you."

"But your support of Henry over our bro ... half-brother" she rectified "Why?"

"Because your half-brother was an imbecile. Henry was everything England always wanted in a King. Edward, God bless his soul, was too weak and too caught up in Calvinist fever, and Philip, he believed in nothing and he was weak, and cruel. And yes, my father was cruel but he didn't go to the great lengths that your half-brother Philip went. And of course your mother was too entitled and would have turned back the clock on England. Henry has been the only one in our family with my father and grandfather's strength. Perhaps you think I was wrong in lying under oath, saying that he was begotten in holy matrimony, and the true son of Philip, Duke of Bavaria and Mary Tudor, but I was right in principle because unlike the rest, I do care for my country and I will do everything to protect it." She underlined the word 'everything'. "Good waiting niece, I hope you have time to ponder on what you've done and beg God forgiveness for it." She said then let go of her hand and left.

~o~

Philip II asked everyone about where Lizzie was but no one wanted to tell him. He even threatened one of her maids who begged him to leave her alone after he drew a crowd of lesser servants. Finally, consume by his frustration, he visited the King.

Henry was even more reluctant to tell him where she went, but felt very enthusiastic about in the golden opportunity he had to mock her. "I am afraid my poor sister is gone. She said she had something very urgent to tend to. Women, right?

"Don't you dare touch me!" Philip hissed and pushed him away. "You may pretend in front of the others that you are my equal but we are not equals. I am King of Spain, Naples and other territories and what are you but the King of a small Isle?"

"Careful Your Majesty, you do not want to let your personal feelings get in the way of doing your job."

"How dare you tell me what to do cousin ... or should I call you baseborn cousin instead?" Philip grinned at this, seeing the younger man's eyes flare up. "Don't think I haven't heard the rumors concerning your mother."

Henry IX's tone became colder. "I repeat Your Majesty, you are our guest here and we have an agreement as father in law to son in law, that you will marry my daughter, joining both our Houses and putting an end to our dispute over the Portuguese crown."

As if you could ever beat me. He wanted to grab that man's throat and kill him right here and now. How stupid he was, to think he could ever bow to this man. Without him, Henry was nothing.

And with an air of pure arrogance, he told Philip as he turned his back on him "I expect you to read our agreement tomorrow morning when I give my last toast over your union with my daughter."

"No!" Philip said and when Henry didn't pay him any heed, he put his hand on his shoulder and forced him turn back to him. "This is what you will do. First, you will tell me where your sister is and then you will say that our treaty isn't broken but I have chosen a new bride and I will put the matrimonial ring on Lady Carey."

"You wouldn't dare!"

"I would and I will! I am King of Spain and you!" He let him go and pointed a finger at him "You are nothing but a bastard who dares to wear the color purple and act as one of his betters."

"I am a King, not your servant or your friend but a King just as you claim to be one, though judging by the way you are acting, no one would know they were talking to one instead of a common thief."

"Bastard! I descend from Kings, my blood runs purer than yours. Who are you or any of your lot, the so called noble Tudors if not paupers descended from Welsh Princes and bastards whom history would have surely forgotten if it wasn't for the fact that the true Kings of England and their families were fighting and murdering each other?"

"You forget that our Trastamara ancestors were also descended from bastards so if the Tudors are bastards, then so are the Catholic Kings."

"You fool. I met with Chapuys and let me say that you do look like him a lot." Philip said and he wasn't messing around for once. Henry IX took more after his real father than his brother Christoph whose face resembled more his mother.

"I will not stand you or any of your dirty Spaniards to talk this way about me or any other member of my family."

"Your family! Your family is the biggest mistake in the history of Europe and I am glad that I will not be marrying into it. And I am glad I am not going to be a part of it."

"You will go into that party tomorrow and tell everybody of our agreement or I will see that the rest of your days are long and torturous."

"You will not get me to marry your skinny daughter. If you truly value Spain, then you will show it by announcing that our alliance still stands but I will marry your sister instead and as my Queen she will be a head higher than you and your puny daughter."

"This was not part of the deal Habsburg!"

"I am altering the deal, thank our Lord that I am not going any further."

Henry IX's lips were so pressed together that they formed a thin line. When he opened his mouth to speak, to Philip's amazement, and sudden hidden admiration he got from the man, his voice became even colder, and his eyes colder still.

"You will get nothing from me and my country. England has welcomed you with open arms, humored you even, and you have spit in our faces. This is how you want to play, so be it. You will have no mercy from us when you need our aid again."

"Oh you are good, very good but Henry ... I am better." He said and with that, he left the annoying, pompous ass of a King and went to the only man who could get him the information he wanted.

~o~

Christoph was nervous. The King had taken his sister to an undisclosed location which he knew thanks to his spies, and they had just told him that his master had visited him, asking his cousin all about it.

"Damn, damn." This day couldn't get any worse. If the King were to find out, or even suspect ... He was brought out of his thoughts by his wife.

"You should just tell him Chris. He is not going to wait until you tell him that you knew and go on your knees, begging his forgiveness."

"Shut up wife, you are not helping."

"You men are so predictable. Why don't you just tell him and get it over with? What are you so afraid? If the King really values this alliance then he will accept Philip's deal."

"It is not that! Don't you get it

"I get it, it is you that doesn't get it. Look, Spain is going to complain no matter who the King marries. And they have always been xenophobic about strangers."

"Exactly! That is why his father had to marry Isabella of Portugal so he could get the people's support and stop the nobles from supporting another rebellion! What do you think this is going to do when they find that he didn't just marry an English royal, but a bastard and a widow at that?"

"So? It will be -what's his name- John Gaunt or something marrying his daughter to a King of Castile all over again. It will be fine."

"That was different!"

"How so? And don't yell me or it is no sex night for you again." Christoph was about to open his mouth but he closed it, knowing that his wife always made good on her promises (and threats -his mind added making him feel more miserable). "John married a woman like his cousin married her sister, who wasn't legitimate and she gave him many children and one of them married the King of Castile."

"Daniela, honey I know what you are trying to get at-"

"So what are you complaining about?"

"But this is different." He said moving his hands wildly but Daniela just saw it as another over-the-top dramatics that his mother always did, gesture which worked for everyone but not for her. After spending years in the Chapuys household, she got used to these antics.

"John of Gaunt was legitimate, his wife was not but he was and in this world if your father is legitimate but your mother is a bastard it doesn't matter as long as they were married."

"Yours weren't married." She quipped.

"Lizzie's parents weren't married and officially nobody knows how her father was, so in everyone's eyes she is a bastard. And that is enough to make her hated no matter where she goes."

There was a knock at their door. "What?!' Daniela almost jumped out of her seat at his shouting. What was it with Tudors and shouting? She thought. "I am very busy!"

"I am sorry sir but His Majesty is in the solar. He requests your presence."

"King Henry?" He asked, mentally crossing his fingers, wishing it was him. He wasn't ready to face his master.

"No, sir. King Philip of Spain."

 _Bless my luck_ -he thought sarcastically, adjusting his doublet, not bothering to look at his wife who was grinning widely, and stepped out the door.

"Su Majestad. Esta es una sorpresa. No esperaba verlo sino hasta la semana quentra cuando usted y la Princesa..." **[1]** Philip raised a hand and stopped him.

"You and I are going to play a little game. You are going to tell me yes or no, or give me a clear answer of what I ask or it is your head, you understand?"

"Ah ... Yes Your Majesty but may I ask what this is all about?"

"Tut, tut, yes or no, or a clear answer." Christoph said no more. After a long minute of silence he started. "Where is your sister?"

"Isabella? She is in Antwerp looking over my states and hers from her late husband's, I told you last week."

"Not that sister you fool. Your other sister-"

"Your Majesty, I am afraid I don't know-"

"Don't try to fool me! One Tudor already tried to and I could have chopped off his head and delivered it to his blessed aunt in a silver platter if he wasn't a King, so I am not in the mood for you playing dumb right now. Where. Is. She?"

"Your Majesty ... I ... I-I really don't know."

Philip smiled coldly at him. Anyone else would have been intimidated by his cold smile but not Christoph. The King of Spain was going to need more intimidation to get through his Ambassador.

"Tell me Christoph, do you value loyalty?"

"Your Majesty?"

"Loyalty. Do you value loyalty?"

"Your Majesty, you know that when I took this position I promised that I would upheld my commitment to Spain and to you. There is no one who has been more loyal to you than I."

"That is true, except for now. You refuse to tell me where your sister is, and you refuse to acknowledge your connection to her. Family, you once told me after I appointed you Ambassador, is everything to you. I didn't doubted you then, because I had seen when I briefly stayed with your folks, who united you all were but now I am beginning to wonder if you were lying to me like your father lied to the previous Henry many times."

"I am loyal to my family, sir."

"Then why won't you do this for me?" Switching to Gaelic which his servants didn't speak, he continued: "You as I know that the late Duke of Bavaria was not the King of England's father and your mother was not some Italian-Spanish orphan who moved to Savoy. We are family, Christoph, the Countess Dowager is much your family as she is mine and I intend to make her my wife and the next Queen of Spain."

"Your Majesty, the Countess Dowager is a bastard as I am. Even if your intentions with her are pure, your people will never see her as anything other than what she was born as. Think of the consequences."

"I already have and she will be my Queen whether you like it or not, it is your job as my servant to tell me things not to give me political advise."

"I beg to differ Your Majesty but it is my job as your Ambassador to tell you when you are doing a mistake even if you don't wish to hear it."

Philip raised an eyebrow. _My, my,_ he thought, _these Tudors sure like being bold_. Perhaps it was in their blood. Philip considered it foolish. Nothing good comes out of being so bold.

"If you marry this woman, it will only bring you despair. Think of what happened to King Edward IV of England, of the House of York, who destroyed not only his children's lives, but destroyed his own dynasty and ended hundreds of years of Plantagenet rule when he married the Grey widow. People rebelled against him."

"And you really think it was just because of that? You don't think it was because of other political motivations?" He asked. "I am getting very weary of this Christoph. I know that you care about the welfare of your adoptive country and myself, but this is what I want. I love her and nothing is going to change that."

When Philip said this, instead of making Christoph better, it made him feel worse. Because he would have felt much better if His Majesty said that he had an ulterior motive for marrying his sister, but now that he was admitting his love for her, it made things more serious and dangerous.

"Your Majesty perhaps it is better that you forget about her. The King intends to marry her with Beauchamp and she will be very happy. It is best to let her go."

"Damn it man! You won't stand in the way of my happiness. Tell me where she is or you and your sister will never step foot in Spain again!"

Christoph sighed. God help me. Damn his sister and her Tudor blood. "She is at Coldharbour."

Philip laughed and slapped his shoulder. "Good man, you will take me there. Let's go." He said and Christoph had no other option but to go in disguise as His Majesty had once been fond of doing in his teenage years when he would sneak into Madrid and pretend he was a commoner to visit his infamous mistress, Isabel de Osorio.

"And don't worry Christoph, I wasn't really going to do anything to you."

 _What?!_ Seeing his look, made Philip laugh harder as they boarded their carriage. "I could have just asked Daniela to come and get the truth out of you!"

* * *

"You know it's a while since I've done this." Philip confessed. They arrived at their destination and Christoph waited until the Lady of Pembroke and Leicester left so they could make their entrance.

"Halt. State your business." The guard said.

"I am Christoph Chapuys, these are my papers. All the information is there."

"I am sorry Your Excellency but the King gave us explicit orders-"

"Do you know who I work for? Good, then you will not want to disappoint my master because he will report to your King directly and I doubt he will be pleased to know that you had anything to do to change his mind regarding his daughter." He said in a strict tone.

The guard gulped and stepped aside, letting him and his secretary pass.

As they made their way in, Christoph had an easier way getting upstairs where they were keeping her. Everything was ready for the King and her to climb down from the ladder he would provide once he stepped out.

Philip thanked his Ambassador and stepped inside the room where they were keeping Elizabeth.

~o~

Lizzie heard the door come in. Judging by his heavy foots, it was another one of her brother's guards to check on her. She didn't need that right now. With just a lit candle to read her book, she raised her voice at his thug. "I don't need more surveillance. Tell my brother that he doesn't need to send more guards on me. If he really wants to help me then bring me ink and paper so I can write and more books!"

Ever his Lizzie. He thought, smiling vaguely. "If I knew you needed ink and paper, I would've brought that too along with some books. Preferably Plato's Republic which I know is your favorite or some of mine so you can see once and for all that the Roman thinkers are much better than your Greek philosophers." He added the last bit with a chuckle.

That voice! Philip! She turned and there he was.

He took off his hat. "Hello my fair lady."

"Philip but how ... Does my brother know you are here?"

"Worry not about your brother. Your other brother brought me here." He said hugging her but at the mention of Christoph she pulled away. He sighed. "Lizzie come on, I knew. You and him have the same eyes and I visited your father, and to be fair your older brother takes after him a lot."

"I didn't expect you to find out. Being related to him has always been a stain, I would rather think that I was related to someone else."

Philip knew she was angry and had her own reasons to hate Eustace Chapuys, so he dismissed the venom in her voice to turn to more pressing matters. "Bess, if you'll allow me to call me Bess for I can think of no better way than to honor my English maiden, I want to make you my wife. I meant it before and I mean it now and nothing anyone says can deter me from my objective."

"No Philip ... I can't ... If I marry you, people will hate me, they will blame me for everything. At first I thought you and I could live happily ever after like in the fairy tales the Duchess of Somersets used to tell me every night but ..."

"But what?" He pressed, deeply hurt that Bess was about to break his heart. He was angry at her, true, but he was sadder, that she was giving up so easily.

"What?!" He asked more strongly and the hurt was now more evident in his face. Even with the dim light she could see it. She sat down and he took her hand. She began crying and she looked away.

A part of her face he had noticed since she turned to him and embraced him was covered and although the sight of her loose hair drove him mad with desire, he could sense something was wrong.

Bess tried to resist but he was quicker and tearing it away he saw it. "Who did this to you?" He was no longer angry at her, but he was seeing red. And if he saw Henry or any of his minions, he vowed he would kill them all. Smart or not, he didn't care anymore. Let others play at politics for once. I have done my part. I will kill that bastard King if I see him again. He swore.

"It doesn't matter."

"Yes it does!" He lowered his voice immediately hearing footsteps approaching. He waited until they were far away, then he spoke again. "Bess, you must come with me. I can take you away from all of this."

"You can't Philip. I am a whore. What we did-"

"was no different than what married couples do and it was a promise I made so in the eyes of God, we did nothing wrong-"

"In the eyes of the one true God according to my brother who sees it all we did" She said with sarcasm, though her tone was also as hateful as the glare she gave him (which he knew was not directed at him but at her brother).

"I can't say I tried but if you do not come then everything will be for nothing." He said and stood up, leaving but just then Bess said "Wait. Philip ... I do love you."

He smiled.

"Then come with me." He said simply, walking to her again, extending his hand. When she took it, he saw the marks on her skin and upon further examination, pushing her sleeve up he saw more scratches and finger nail marks. "Those bastards."

"My auntie Bess, she always said she loved me and was greatly disappointed by my behavior."

"That doesn't matter. We will get out of here and you won't have to see them again." He promised.

* * *

The two left England that day. It wasn't long before Henry felt he was the laughing stock, which he would have been if it wasn't for his temper and his stare which was enough to make any man, including the bravest and most brute of them, cower before him.

He could hear the laughter of his father. His real father as he approached him and told him that he should expect no less from a sister that was better than him in every way.

"Bastard!" Henry roared at him then left his study chamber screaming in his mind: _Why can't I get rid of you?!_

When he reached his shared bedroom with his wife, she wasn't very cooperative and told him this was his fault. Deciding he had enough of nagging ghosts and wives, he went to his private rooms and had his groom of the stool call his mistress and his aunt's cousin, Lettice.

As she took all of her clothes off, he couldn't help but compare her to Catherine. The first time the two had made love, it felt so wrong but so right at the same time. They didn't care of the consequences and probably that is what Lizzie felt as well. But he was a king and he could do whatever he wanted. Furthermore, Catherine was of royal descent with a claim to the Portuguese throne.

What his sister had done was treason. Plain and simple.

After succumbing to pleasure, he shut all his memories and his pains, but he was hit by them again in his dreams.

* * *

 ** _[FLASHBACK SEQUENCE: 21 YRS BEFORE]_**

 ** _To say that Henry was angry was an understatement. Her favorite playmate and secret crush, little Mary Seymour was showing off to his older brother Philip. "Oh why does Philip get to have the nice girls?"_**

 ** _"Don't worry Harry, you will get her someday. Besides, you are more handsome than Phil." His sister Lizzie said._**

 ** _"You think so?" He asked, a wide smile on his face as he imagined himself married to her one day. Ah, what a day that would be. He was only eleven years old, but he knew all about marriage. It was when two people loved each other so much that they were willing to do anything -*anything*- to be together. He vowed that when he married Mary, he would never stray from her or look at another woman.  
_**

 ** _"I know so." Lizzie promised him and kissed his cheek. "You are a catch. And I am also proud of having such a handsome brother like you."_**

 ** _He giggled and hugged her. "I love you Lizzie." The two then went out into the gardens. Since the Duke of Somerset had died, and the Duchess was put in prison with many of her ten children separated, Lizzie got sent back to the Duke of Bavaria's care. A part of him was sad because that meant a lot of verbal lashing, but the other part was happy because he got to be with her again._**

 ** _As the two stared at the night sky and pointed to constellations, Lizzie took his hand and squeezed it tightly, surprising him. He turned to her and saw the concern in her eyes. "What's wrong Lizzie?"_**

 ** _"Harry? Promise me we will be friends."_**

 ** _"I promise you Lizzie, you know I would never let anything come in between us. You are my sister and I love you."_**

 ** _"Please Harry just promise me."_**

 ** _"I will. But why all this worry? This isn't you."_**

 ** _Lizzie sighed. "I had a bad dream. I had babies and bad men came and took them away from me. And you were there being tormented by me because I accused you of something. I can't remember what but it had to do with my babies and you cried then you died. Harry, tell me you will never do something like that."_**

 ** _"Of course I will not Lizzie! Never!" Harry swore. He was horrified that his sister could dream something like that, worse that she could think that he would ever hurt her. He was one half of her. He would never hurt her. The two were one being. "I love you." He said, more serious now._**

 ** _[End of FLASHBACK]_**

~o~

Henry IX awoke, drenched in cold sweat. He put his hands on his temples and said "Get out of there." He was tired of being haunted by the past. Hadn't he suffered enough?

Not realizing that he was being watched through one of the hidden holes in his paintings, he sighed and went back to sleep, moving closer to the warm body of Lettice.


End file.
